


All the World's a Sale

by Narwhal_Lord



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Adventure, Blood and Injury, Gen, Humor, Politics, Self-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:55:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 144,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27459076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Narwhal_Lord/pseuds/Narwhal_Lord
Summary: All the world's a sale, And all the men and women merely opportunities. An actor (Self-Insert) wakes up in Valm after a nasty incident in a play, and finds himself on the road with Anna. They become fast friends as the adventure unfolds, but the road to the end of Awakening won't be so easy... Adventure/Humor story containing darker themes.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 24





	1. A Hasty Awakening

“Andrew, you’re up in five!” The stage director hissed, sending me nearly a foot into the air. I’d been doing my best to lurk in the dark corners, hoping that maybe Stage Tech would come and cart me away with all the misplaced props. Unfortunately, Mr. Stevens was dressed in full black and could sneak up on someone dressed in costume without even a whisper of sound.

My stomach knotted as I stood, pulling at the more ostentatious bits of costume. The director had called for simpler costumes, but as the Duke, I seemed to be a vague exception. “And you’re sure I have to go on, Mr. Stevens?” I muttered to myself, “The understudy seemed just fine earlier.”

“That’s what you said last night. Where’s the Duke we saw on opening night?” Mr. Stevens prodded, pushing me along to the stage entrance. 

I took a long, shuddering breath, putting a hand to my heart. The other went up to scratch at the beard- a short, curly thing that ran along the entirety of my chin. Costumes had given it a touch of grey on opening night, and it hadn’t yet come out. I didn’t mind it, honestly. Combined with my height, it gave me the towering presence expected of the Duke of Venice. “He’s right here.”

“Good, good!” Clapping his hands together, Mr. Stevens checked his watch and unhooked the radio on his black button-up. “All clear. The Duke is ready.”

I checked the buttons on my loose maroon tunic, pulled the cape into place over my shoulders, straightened the prop sword, and fluffed the ruffles (Costuming had called it a cravat?). 

Just as the curtains began to rise, I squared my shoulders and swept onto the stage with lordly magnificence. Hopefully that cape was fluttering behind me dramatically. The lights came on, starting with a faint one on me followed by a bright light as ‘ _ the Magnificoes _ ,  _ ANTONIO, BASSANIO, GRATIANO, SALERIO, and others _ ’ walked on stage. Already I could feel the heat of the lights beating on my skin. My heart hammered away, drumming a beat that would be more at home in heavy metal. I idly realized that, outside of my role, I had no idea what the plot was. Something about moneylenders? The director had used a revised version, too...

Pause for a moment, watch the crowd. Shoulders square, breathe. “What, is Antonio here?” I intoned, dropping a register as I waved across the actors.

Mason- er, Antonio, our titular ‘Merchant of Venice’- stepped up, hands behind his back. “Ready, so please your grace-”

_ Crack _

Not sure what that was- sounded a bit like plastic. It was best for me to just carry on with the play. “I am sorry for thee: thou art come to answer/ A stony adversary-”

I heard a  _ whump _ , but my wondering was halted by a sharp pain to the head. And then...

Nothing.

[][][][][][][][]

My eyes shot open, muscles tensed in memory of a pain that...

Never came? I brought a hand to my head, registering I was still in costume as I did, and rubbed it. Not even a bruise! Perhaps it was all a nightmare? If so, my mind had terrible taste.

Or, I supposed as I started registering my surroundings, I was in a dream. I was standing between two buildings made of dark wood and pale paneling, looking out into a market of people in outfits better suited for a renaissance fair. A handful of stalls were set up, most of them staffed by obvious locals. In the distance, I could’ve sworn I heard the odd  _ oinking  _ kind of sounds pigs make. Even heard some birds chirping. I had no idea why I’d dream of something like this, but it was at least pleasant.

What was less pleasant was the crowd surrounding an actual horse-drawn wagon, shouting enough that I could understand exactly none of it.

“They were fair prices!” Someone shouted over the crowd- a woman, I guessed- and I watched as angry village-folk were pushed aside by someone near the head of the wagon.

I decided that this was none of my business, and started making to go somewhere quieter. Then maybe I could ask where the hell I was. Just as I turned out of the alley, a flash of red caught my eye- and then an arm was locked with mine. With a  _ yank _ , I turned around to face the crowd. At least the cape had billowed suitably. Costuming had done a great job with it.

“Do you see this man?” A familiar voice proclaimed from next to me- the same as before, tugging at some odd spot in my mind. “I was here to meet up with him. He’s from Ylisse, you know!” Out of the side of her mouth, she hissed, “Roll with it.”

I stole a glance to my side and I nearly lost it, then and there. She was a short woman with ridiculously red hair, dressed in a bright red outfit with a large floppy yellow collar, and boots more fit for combat than anything. But more importantly, she looked  _ exactly _ like Anna. As in, the video game character. Someone that’s best kept close, if I’m actually in Fire Emblem. Despite it all, I was beginning to doubt this was a dream at all. 

Taking a long, deep breath to steady my trembling hands, I laid a hand on my costume sword. Breathe in, breathe out, square shoulders. With a roll of my neck, I called upon the character of the Duke without the bit about being kind of useless. “Of what does my companion stand accused of?”

The crowd eyed the sword, shuffling. It was mostly middle-aged women, and I almost felt bad for the vague threat. Not that this sword could do  _ anything _ , even if I was half-competent at using it. “Her character is one I can vouch for, I assure.”

They seemed just as grumpy, but most of them filtered away. The ones that didn’t...

“Her prices are ridiculous!” Protested one, and I looked at Anna(?) with a raised eyebrow. She gave a guilty shrug.

I leaned over for a moment to whisper to her. “Did they haggle? Be honest.”

“Not a lot. Really.”

I straightened. “And did you, perhaps, try to haggle with her? Her prices were high, but I do not think a mob is suitable.”

The same woman from earlier grumbled. “Well, no...”

Strike while the iron is hot. “So I propose we go on our merry ways, and perhaps leave a little wiser.” I took my hand off the sword. “You can let go. This is uncomfortable.”

She let go of me instantly, doing a half twirl into a curt bow. “Well, you heard the man.”

They had, and I suspect they wanted to strangle her still. I walked up beside her, gesturing to cart and hopefully helping disperse the crowd. 

Anna strode through them, delicately avoiding any contact before springing up to the front-facing seat of the cart. She patted the spot next to her, and I shrugged. With considerably less grace, I clambered on and made brief, relieved eye contact as Anna directed the cart out of town.

[][][][][][][][]

As the village shrunk behind us, I slumped into the wagon seat and let out a long groan. This was partially from the tension of the moment, and partially from rising worries. Now that I’d heard more of her voice and had time to think about it, I was almost certain this was an Anna- meaning I was in a Fire Emblem game. This ticked on my panic radar, but I decided to pack that down for a better moment. 

Anna(?), who had been sitting ramrod straight, allowed her shoulders to slump. Letting out a groan of her own, she said, “I can’t  _ believe _ that worked.” 

“That makes two of us,” I grunted, shifting in my seat. The cape needed to go- it was pulling down on my neck in the worst possible way. “Two strangers pulling improv on angry villagers is a new one for me.”

“It was pretty good, though,” She added with a light chuckle, rolling her neck, “You nailed it, I nailed it, and we both got the hell out of there.”

“I can’t tell who owes who...” I mused, unclipping the cape and shuffling off of it. “Pardon, I think I’m invading your space here.”

“Well, consider it payback for me invading yours earlier,” Anna replied, tossing her bright red hair over one shoulder. It was as strong a shade as my own outfit, and very cleanly matched the red of her own stitched vest. 

Moving away, I neatly folded up the cape. “Where should I put this? Or should I just hold onto it so when I get off-”

Anna twisted, unpinning her own cape and rolling it in a movement I barely caught. Dropping it behind the divider in the cart, she gestured to me. “Dump it there, next to my cape. I think I came out a bit more in debt than you did there, so I’ll give you a free ride to the next town.”

“Much appreciated,” I said, dropping my cape where she indicated, “Though I think I owe you more, as I’m very far from anywhere I’d like to be.” And I was  _ pretty far _ . I had pretty much no idea where I was, or even which Fire Emblem game this was. Hopefully not Fates- my memory of the plot for any of the three paths was absolutely abysmal. What other games had more eastern-style architecture...?

She brought up a hand and rested her chin on a long finger. “I’m Anna, by the way.”

I coughed, derailing my own wandering thoughts. “You can call me- well, friends call me Andrew. Everyone else also calls me that. Nice to meet you, Anna.” So confirmation was nice, or it was a wild coincidence. Knowing I was in a Fire Emblem game was honestly better than thinking I was in some weird coma-dream.

There was a long pause. I watched wind dance in the rolling fields of rice, shadows starting to stretch out behind us.

“Nope!” Anna said abruptly, sending me nearly a foot into the air, “I have no idea who you are. You look like a noble- not from around here, though. More Ylissean than anything. And I know a lot of people, so...”

“Startled me there,” I replied quickly, putting a hand to my heart as she gave me a faint smile, “You’re saying I’m not a noble. That’d be correct- I’m just a very lost thespian.”

“Thespian being the word for actor, right?” Anna paused, getting my nod of confirmation, “Well it’s a very good costume, then. How’d you end up here?”

“No idea,” I admitted with an exaggerated shrug, “And I was fully prepared to go it on foot, so- thanks, again.” 

Ylissean, huh? So we were in the setting of Awakening. That’s a good thing, I knew that game decently well. Given the eastern-style buildings, eastern being as far as I could peg it with my limited knowledge of architecture, I was somewhere in Valm. Or the continent Valm was on. Whichever. Hopefully not during the Ylissean League war, because then I’d be too late to change much of anything.

Was that a bad thing, though? I’d be in the home stretch and free to do whatever I wanted.

I was snapped out of it by a jab to the forearm. “You there, Andrew?” She asked, prodding me again, “I asked you a question.”

Blinking, I turned to look at Anna. Her red eyes met mine, uncomfortably close, and she smirked at me. “Spaced out for a moment, sorry. What did you say?”

“I asked where you’re planning to go.”

That’s a very good question. “Well, the hope is that I can get to Ylisse or some such. Not sure what I’ll do there.”

“Not to a theatre troupe?” She asked, turning back to face the road.

“Lady, the last place I remember is practically  _ worlds _ away from here. Through the Outrealm Gate, or however the saying goes.” Maybe she knew what the Outrealms were? An Anna ran the gate in the game.

She frowned. “That’s unusual. The worst I’ve heard of was a drunk noble ending up three provinces away...” There was a pause as she tapped her chin. “What’s an Outrealm Gate?”

“It’s an odd saying, so I’m not sure either,” I answered, mentally crossing off ‘check for Outrealm Gate’ until maybe there was a chance to inspect the general location. “So in short, I’d like to head to Ylisstol, because I’m at least vaguely familiar with it.”

“That’s going to be a rough journey,” Anna chuckled, “I’m making it myself, actually. Walhart’s conquests have been getting a little too rowdy for my liking.”

Okay, so he hadn’t unified the continent, and to nobody’s surprise Anna was probably just going to dump me in some town. “I could join you. Granted, I have no coinage on me-”

“And money is pretty important.” Anna agreed. 

As a pit opened in my stomach, I nodded. “And, of course, if someone heard Anna was doing something for free, your reputation-”

“Would be ruined, exactly!” Anna finished, “ _ Somebody _ gets it.”

I turned looking at Anna’s stock. Tomes, some weapons, dried foods (I guessed, wasn’t easy to tell at a glance), and what looked like a lot of healing supplies. “And with the kind of stuff you stock, if you give them any ground they’ll run with it. Charity begets charity, and-”

“Charity isn’t the business I’m in,” Anna supplied smoothly, “Some people don’t like it when I tell them that, but what can I say? It costs money to get any of this stuff.”

It looked like she had been wanting to vent on this for a while. Her stance had become considerably more open as she spoke, and her expression uncreased subtly. While it felt somewhat manipulative, it was something to go on. “And for every buyer there’s a bunch of villagers who can’t afford it. I may be a stranger in a cart, but I’m not stupid.” 

I’d hit  _ something  _ the right way, because her eyes lit up in a way that wanted me to be anywhere but here- or be here all the time? In any case, it seemed I had read her correctly. “ _ It’s awful _ ,” She pronounced, glinting eyes trained on the road, “There’s bandits or soldiers everywhere and  _ nobody _ wants to buy my stock. Well, last time I was in Ylisse, the Shepherds wanted to buy the lot, but I can’t fleece-” Anna coughed, “I can’t charge my usual prices with them. Frederick the Wary is  _ too wary _ .”

I grinned. “Too bad you can’t charge him for the rod he sticks up his arse.”

Giving me a  _ look _ , Anna’s lips twitched upwards. “I wish. Knowing Ylisse, they’d want a Brand on it. If it has a Brand on it, it came from a pricey and very skilled smith.”

I leaned back, resting a hand on the front wall of the cart. “Are we talking large piles of gold amounts of skill?” 

“Better,” Anna promised, “For my usual stock, Prince Chrom was prepared to pay me in  _ bullion _ .”

If I’d been drinking anything, I would have spat it out. “ _ Bullion _ ? Gold  _ bullion _ ? Pardon the pun, Miss Anna, but that’s a gold mine you have there. Naga bless him, but no wonder Frederick’s his keeper.”

Anna gave an unladylike snort. “And here I thought Frederick was for Princess Lissa’s safety. No, he’s for the safety of the realm’s vaults!”

I could work with this. “How much do you think he’d pay for a second pauldron?”

“He  _ does _ need one, doesn’t he...” Anna trailed off, thinking, “I don’t know how to sell that idea to him. It’s practically a fashion choice at this point.”

The pieces started dropping together in my head, and I think my proximity to the greatest moneygrabber in Fire Emblem had already begun to corrupt me. “So sell it as a package deal. Armor for the Shepherds- you’ll just need access to a smith who can forge the Brand into something. And that’s  _ awfully expensive _ .”

She looked at me, expression unreadable. “You’re telling me to sell their own smiths’ work back to them.”

With a nod, I looked out at the sky. The sun was getting quite close to the horizon, and all I saw was fields. “Well, no. Then they wouldn’t buy from you again. You’re  _ Anna _ , not some bottom-of-the barrel merchant, right?”

Anna raised an eyebrow. “If you’re trying to sell me something, it won’t work.”

Huh. Okay, fair, she was probably used to being buttered up in hopes of lower prices. And probably held up by bandits. I gave a half-grin, rubbing the back of my head awkwardly. “You have a reputation, I know. But trust me, this is going somewhere.”

She shrugged. “I’ve got nothing else to do, and I can’t charge for air.”

Airtime, maybe, but inventing the radio is not something I can just do on the fly. “So this won’t cost you anything, if it doesn’t work out. Say you go to the capital and offer to help outfit the Shepherds. You’ve probably already thought about that, and Frederick-”

“Took one look at my prices and sent Chrom outside.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at the image of Chrom with a dunce cap, sitting outside. “I guess we know who wears the pants in Ylisse. Frederick won’t agree to buying anything but the highest quality, and for way less than you’d like. So you offer him things he can’t buy anywhere else- specially made armor for Chrom. Armor fit for, say... a Lord?”

Anna looked off for a moment, lips twitching again. “Oh I  _ like  _ you. But we’re nowhere near Ylisse, so those ideas are pretty useless right now.”

My heart sank a little. “Fair. Hell, Prince Chrom might have wised up on his own. But...”

“But what?” She asked, leaning in. 

I had nothing, but I needed to improv and fast. Anna might keep me on-board, so long as I can prove it is to her benefit. I sifted through my memory of the game and the various bits of knowledge my Econ Major friend had dumped on me through the years.

Valm is unstable right now. Virion left to get help, which is interesting, but-

Tea! That was it. Tea. I licked my lips, trying to keep them from drying out. “Tea, Anna.”

“Tea?” She asked, eyebrow raised. “I’m listening.”

“Walhart’s a bit of a hardass for regulations, right?” And he was uptight enough to keep murmurs of Valm gearing up against Ylisse for quite a while. 

“Yup,” Anna said, popping the  _ p _ , “The taxes are ridic...u...” Her eyes widened.

“Tea’s about to skyrocket in price across the pond,” I nodded, “If only there was someone around to sell it to them- with markup, of course.”

Anna bit her lip as she looked upwards, eyes twitching slightly. After a quick pause, she nodded to herself. “Andrew,” She said with a grin, “I think this is the start of a long and profitable friendship.”

I stuck out a hand. “I’m willing to go 70/30 in your favor.” Start high so you can give more ground without getting shortchanged.

She reached with her own, eyes shining, “Come on. I’m the only one taking any risk with assets here. 90/10, you get free passage.” Nope, she’d caught on. Still, quite generous of her.

I scoffed audibly. “Ridiculous. 80/20 is better- you wouldn’t have come up with this on your own, or come up with it too late.”

With a tilt of her head and a winning smile, she shook her head. “85/15 is as high as I’ll go.”

Way better than expected, honestly. I took her hand in mine, and we shook on it.

[][][][][][][][]

Anna had probably put up with some strange stuff over the years; working as a merchant on the road almost guaranteed it. Probably dealt with some seriously crazy people, too. Hell, she’s probably caused more fair share of crazy. All things considered, if I turned out to be a bad investment, I got the distinct impression I’d be just another bump in the road for her.

So when stars peered out of the navy sky, road stretching and writhing endlessly from horizon to horizon, I took the chance to help her out. The wagon came to a rolling stop at the edge of the road, and I leapt off with what little grace I could manage. One of my knees complained quite violently about it, but I winced and tried to ignore it. “Right,” I started, twisting my back and stretching aching muscles, “What can I help with tonight?” 

Anna stared at me long enough for me to look away and shuffle my feet. Then, like a spring uncoiling, she  _ bounced _ out of her seat, heeled boots landing delicately on the uneven road. She clapped her hands together, moved one hand to scratch her chin, then pointed to the back of the wagon. “See if you can start a fire and set up the cooking pot- There’s a crate in back, you’ll be able to tell which one it is. I’ll deal with the horses.”

Being told what to do. I was good with that; I like to fancy myself a leader but I never want to step up when the time comes. When I took a step back to get out of her way, I was struck with the understanding of why Anna wore those boots. Now, granted, I’m just under two meters tall, so everyone is short. I wondered if that’s what the heeled boots and ridiculous collar were for- making her look larger than she was. “Gotcha.”

Crickets started their evening sounds, replacing the deafening sound of clattering wood and clopping hooves. It wasn’t the best replacement- it still felt uncomfortably silent. I walked around to the back of the cart, letting my feet fall more loudly than needed. It wasn’t hard to spot the crate labelled  _ Anna’s Cooking Supplies _ written on it- oh, good, I can read the language- and I was able to pick it out with only minor back complaints. It wasn’t terribly heavy, but wagon seats are not pleasant in the slightest. “Ugh. How do you deal with it, Anna? The back pain from the wagon?”

She laughed a bit, talking over the jingling of buckles and belts for the horses. “Good posture and a lot of stretches.”

“You’ll have to teach me those at some point, you know. I’ll have to-” 

“Yup. You’ll owe me.”

Something in Anna’s support conversations pinged in my head as I unpacked the crate, setting up a decent log-cabin fire. “Anna,” I asked, watching her hum over buckles with practiced fingers, “Is there anything more important to you than money?”

“Nope,” She replied instantly, popping the  _ p _ , “Nothing at all.”

“Uh-huh,” I nodded, “Good thing you packed kindling, by the way. I doubt I’d find much out here.”

“Always be prepared. You know how to cook a quick soup, right?”

Thank goodness I loved the hell out of soup. “If there is such a thing as quick soup, no. I can do normal soup, though.”

Anna slid over to me, reaching into the cooking crate and emerging with a smaller crate. Dropping it down, she herself plopped down on the makeshift seat. “I don’t know of any quick soups either, but it didn’t hurt to ask.”

I blinked. It felt distinctly like there was a story behind it, but my stomach reminded me that its needs were more important.

[][][][][][][][]

After soup and being provided a ‘free’ bedroll, I barely had the time to remove the frillier bits of my costume before falling dead asleep. This lasted until Anna poked me with the back end of a healing stave, well before the birds had even started their morning songs. While I have never really enjoyed getting up early, watching the sunrise filter through the trees and peer across the mountains in the far distance was something I could get used to. In no time at all, we were back on the road and I was alone with my thoughts. 

I took that chance to try and assemble a model of  _ when _ I was, matching my somewhat flaky game knowledge against the equally flaky knowledge Anna had been dropping. Walhart hadn’t seized control of the entire continent yet, but he was close- meaning that it had to at least be close to the time period for Awakening. 

But I had no idea how to change any of it. I didn’t have the leverage of being a terrifyingly skilled fighter, or any of the other traits that Lucina had that made her even remotely believable. I was just a regular person from a time where regular people relied on guns rather than swords, and I didn’t even have leverage with Chrom to get me into the Shepherds. I had no business being here-

I took a long, deep breath, steadying myself. Another. Panic won’t help. In through the nose, out through the mouth, and let it melt away. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I took a mental step back. Anna looked at me oddly. “Just worrying about stuff.”

“It happens a lot when you’re out on the road,” Anna replied easily, looking away.

I’m in Fire Emblem: Awakening, somewhere in Valm. I could join the Rebellion- maybe even start it?- or even...

“Anna?”

The woman in question rolled her neck, shifting in place to stretch her back a little. I winced as my own back echoed the thought. “Yeah? Got any more crazy ideas?”

I huffed. “They aren’t crazy. You even got me to agree to how much of the profit I’d get. And I have plenty more where that one came from,” I paused, mentally noting that I needed to come up with more crazy ideas. Hastily re-railing the thought Anna had knocked away, I started, “I’m really out of the loop on things, but mostly I’m confused about the geography. Where are we relative to the Mila Tree?”

“The Mila Tree, huh?” Anna frowned. “We’re going to pass right by it, actually- I’m aiming from the northern passage to Ferox. Why do you ask?”

Because Tiki is there. “Well, I always was curious about the Voice of Naga. Might be worth stopping by?”

Anna have a languid shrug, picking at the collar of her outfit. “I don’t see why not. That’s not the whole reason you’re asking, though.”

Right. I was a crap liar when it came to personal stuff. “Well, Walhart doesn’t much like religion, does he?”

“Yeah,” Anna replied, drawing out the vowels slightly. She flicked the reins, tugging to realign the cart as we went around a slight bend.

“Well, the Voice is basically a big religious figure. Might be harder to drop by at a later date.”

Anna hummed, looking out over the road. “It’ll be two days before we get there.”

She didn’t have to acquiesce to any degree, but she did. “I appreciate this, Anna,” I said, smiling faintly, “I really do.”

“Yeah, yeah, stuff it.”

[][][][][][][][]

Valm really was a beautiful continent. Large fields of springy grasses, rolling hills of dark green forest, and picturesque villages dotting everything, surrounded by neatly tended farms. There was a certain quietness to it.

Anna’s stomach growled, sending both of us into the air.

Flushing slightly, Anna put a hand to her stomach. “Andrew, can you grab some jerky? It’s in the-”

“Saw the box this morning. I think I can reach it from here,” I said quickly, reaching back. My back complained as I twisted, but I managed to snag the box and pull it forward. I stuck a hand in and came out with a small sack. “Yup,” I grunted, rubbing my back, “I can.”

Anna accepted a piece gratefully, and I snagged my own before dropping the sack back down. “Thanks. Already proving your worth.”

“Technically, I was free,” I pointed out around a mouthful of jerky, “So that’s not a high standard.”

She flashed a grin, but said nothing. 

My back ached as I rolled my shoulders back, trying to unknot whatever muscle was causing havoc with my spine. “Ugh. You’ll need to teach me those stretches tonight. My back is  _ killing  _ me.”

Pinning me with her sharp red eyes, she raised a single eyebrow. “Sure that’s all you’re interested in?”

I was not at all sure what she was getting at. It was like a yoga lesson, right? But more practical and hopefully less tendon pain. For lack of a better response, I locked eyes and replied, “Look, my back is not happy with me. I’m interested in learning the stretches.”

She looked at me for a moment longer before turning away. “Good.”

Gotcha. Guess she was worried about me wanting her to do leg stretches or something? I mean, she wears heels all the time, so she probably needs leg stretches too. The enigma of Anna could fully occupy my idle mind as I stared down the road, and it did.

[][][][][][][][]

A metallic scent filled the air, setting me on edge instantly. Anna frowned, nose twitching. “That’s not good,” She observed, “Hopefully it’s nowhere near.”

I leaned forward slightly, doing my best not to breathe too deeply through the nose. “What’s nowhere near?”

“You don’t recognize it?” Anna asked, raising an eyebrow as I shrugged, “That’s blood. Lots of it.”

My stomach knotted and churned. “Lovely.” Was there a battle going on? I know that Anna had mentioned the region was a bit unstable- or at least implied it, I think. But  _ how _ unstable?

Tense moments passed without much way of counting them. We rounded the bend, and my already upset stomach tried to upend itself. Six bodies lay by the side of the road, some in worse shape than others- all of them in ramshackle armor. Ten soldiers, all as red as the drying blood in the soil, stood by cleaning their weapons. One was removing an axe from a dead man’s ribcage, making a sickening, wet  _ crunch _ as it came out. 

Another looked to be an officer, wearing a slightly more decorated outfit and writing in some sort of journal. He looked up at us, drinking in every detail with professional detachment. Anna waved, giving a cheerful smile. I could only manage a respectful nod. 

The officer nodded and said something to the soldiers, and they all moved to the side of the road.

It took far too long for us to roll past. The stench grew and grew, burning at my nose and clawing at my throat- And all at once, it was gone. 

For a long while, I couldn’t trust myself to speak. Something about those bodies was burned into my mind. It didn’t sit right with me. “Anna,” I said quietly, “What do you think caused them to-”

She cut me off, her usual bubbly energy toning down slightly. “Rebels, Andrew. Poorly outfitted, but angry about the new regulations.”

That didn’t comfort me in the slightest. “And you’ve seen this before?”

“Every week or two, yes.”

And that was worse. “They’d have a much better chance working together, biding their time.”

Anna turned slightly, fixing me with her appraising red eyes. “I’d rather not get involved, Andrew. Dangerous- and unprofitable- business. That’s a bad combination if I’ve ever heard of one!” Her tone returned slightly near the end, lifting my spirits while still dragging my stomach down.

I’d have to leave Anna, but I could do something about this. I could help them. The image of the soldier, tearing an axe from a poor peasant’s chest, drifted through my mind. Stomach knotting, heart aching-

“I think I’ll stick with you,” I said, “Don’t want to get involved in all that nasty business, honestly.”

With a shrug, Anna looked away.

Not long after, it started raining. I loved rain, but I couldn’t feel it- something just wasn’t sitting right with me. 

I don’t think we spoke for the rest of the day, save for a few clipped words over dinner.

[][][][][][][][]


	2. Bandits and Soup

I was up of my own accord the next morning, waking to the earthy scent of wet soil. Quietly, I stretched sleepy muscles as I slipped out of the tent. Dim, blue-gold light filtered through the trees, cutting striking beams in the early mist. A few birds chirped, singing songs I didn’t recognize. Something about mornings made me quiet, contemplative. With how my life had just been upturned, it was comforting.

Anna had retreated to her cart to avoid the rain, returning only briefly with a tent and blankets for the horses. I think the rain put her off-kilter, taking most of the curls out of her hair and causing her boots to sink oddly into the soil. The silence told me she hadn’t yet woken, or was perhaps still going through some predawn traditions. Either way, I thought it would be nice if I had some sort of breakfast ready for her. 

I knelt carefully in the damp grass, putting my hand over the damp coals. A faint aura of heat, but not enough to really work with. Turning- and wincing as my back complained- I lifted the lid off the cooking crate and searched for my own addition to it. My hand closed on the spine of a book, and I pulled out the Fire tome. Anna had mentioned that magic casting of any significance for combat took a lot of time and effort- but so long as you had the aptitude...

The script inside was crisp, laid out in blocks around central diagrams that I didn’t quite comprehend. The STEM major in me grumbled at the concept, but the scientist in me was still begging for an explanation. With a flex of my will, I was able to pour  _ something  _ into the book- and out of the circle came  _ heat _ . From my outstretched fingertips, a few sparks dripped into the coals with hisses of steam and flares of light.

With a few twigs and an extra log, I was able to keep that morning fire going. I watched the sky brighten as I waited for the heat to even out, wishing I had done more camping back home. Soon, the soup from last night was warming over the fire (because Anna packed almost exclusively soup supplies). It wasn’t a strong scent, but it did manage to drag Anna out of the cart. Though she looked distinctly bedraggled in what looked to be loose sleepwear, she already had a dagger clipped to her belt. It was interesting to see her hair down.

I grabbed a bowl and spoon as she approached. “Good morning,” I greeted quietly, “Looks like you had an interesting night.”

Anna eyed the costume sword resting next to me, putting a hand on her own dagger. After a long pause, she levelled bright red eyes at me and shrugged. Her speech came out as groggy as she looked. “Rain s’when I like to read. Stayed up reading.” 

I hummed in response, taking a heaping scoop of soup and pouring it into the bowl. She took it quietly, digging in with slowly growing energy. As the chorus of birds started to swell, I went back to the tent and pulled out the outer parts of my costume. Anna watched me with a gleam of interest as I ran the fabrics through my hands, inspecting every inch. 

Everything had held up surprisingly well, I noticed, and upon inspection I was shocked. My costume had gained a grit it did not have before, made of subtly rougher and more durable material. The hat had long been removed in favor of letting my dirty, red-blonde hair fluff out in its usual wavy mess, but it had received the same treatment as the rest of my clothes. 

And then came the sword. It had unusual heft in its sheath, and my suspicions were proved correct. Sliding out with a metallic  _ hiss _ , the blade dimly reflected the dawn sun-

“ _ Andrew _ ,” Anna hissed, making me jump, “Point that somewhere else!”

I turned, noting how the blade had reflected the sun directly into her eyes. Her hand was back on the dagger as she shaded her eyes. I gave an apologetic shrug before turning slightly. “My bad, Anna. Sorry!”

She tilted her head. “That’s a very nice sword, though.”

I knew very little about actual swords. “Thanks. I happen to quite like it.”

A year of HEMA- essentially the sport of hitting people with longswords- had given me the bare basics about getting slammed in the ribcage. We used plastic swords, though, so we didn’t even get to appreciate good looking swords. I unsheathed the long, narrow blade and gave it a few swings, feeling it hum through the wind. It felt very comfortable in my hands, all things considered. “And hopefully, I don’t have to use it.”

“Not a fan of fighting?” Anna asked, setting down her empty bowl. She put one arm up as she arched her back in a stretch, making a strange noise as she did. “Or not good at it?”

“Bit of both, honestly,” I said, sheathing the blade with a metallic  _ clink _ and looking away, “I have some experience, but nothing lethal.” And I didn’t want to contemplate killing, honestly.

“Figured,” she said, walking back to the cart,“You looked like you were about to lose your lunch over those rebels.”

My stomach rolled over just thinking about it. “We’re not all cut out for fighting, you know,” I grumbled, “I’d much rather be back in a theatre.”

Setting the sword down, I slipped into and buttoned up the deep red tunic of the Duke. The pants- or rather, the costume pants that went over my pants- went on after, because otherwise I’d look more ridiculous than usual. Looking at the Fire Tome from earlier for a long moment, I put that in one of the tunic’s surprisingly large pockets.

Anna popped out of the cart shortly after, rolling her neck and stretching her arms. “Aah!” She sighed, “This is  _ much _ better.”

I blinked. “That was fast.” She must have suited up countless times to slip on those long boots, belt up the armor plates on her legs, and put on the tunic. Unlike the Anna I remember from the game art, the one in front of me had a much more sensible tunic- no exposed collarbone or weird belt around the top of the chest. I suspected this one was more padded armor than clothing, and resolved to ask later.

“Practice,” she replied with an easy smile, “And a very skilled tailor.”

“Well, it works,” I shrugged, looking back over at the tent. “I’ll start breaking camp. Anything I should do if I finish early?”

Surveying the campsite, she looked at me with a raised eyebrow. “Andrew, if you finish breaking camp, that means  _ you have finished breaking camp _ .”

Feeling a little heat in my cheeks, I turned away. “Just trying to be helpful. No appreciation, I swear...”

Anna chuckled, and I couldn’t help but smile.

[][][][][][][][]

It wasn’t long after we got on the road again that the Mila Tree peered over the hilly horizon, a rolling cloud of rippling green that shone in the mid-morning glow. Somewhere in the back of my head, I registered that this meant Fire Emblem Awakening took place on a round planet, or at least a rounded disc. Useless information, but still.

“How tall is the Mila Tree, do you think?” I mused, scratching my short beard, “You said two days, and we can see it nearly a day away from arriving.”

Anna looked at the slowly rising tuft of greenery and frowned. “That’s a good question,” she said, shrugging, “Not a clue. Maybe someone’s measured it?”

The image of someone climbing the tree to drop a long measuring tape down rose to the surface of my mind, and I chuckled. Seeing Anna’s strange glance in my direction, I leaned back and said, “Just picturing someone measuring it with a long rope or something.” 

Her expression didn’t fade. “Ooookay,” Anna replied, one eyebrow raised, “Guess the crazy is more than skin deep.”

Guess my sense of humor wasn’t entirely appreciated, but rather than accept it I rose to the challenge. “Crazy? I may be a thespian, but you’re the one that grabbed a stranger off the street because the villagers called you out.”

“My prices were completely reasonable!” Anna retorted with a huff, putting up a finger, “ _ They _ were the unreasonable ones. And unreasonable times call for irrational measures.”

That got another laugh out of me. Leaning forward, I clasped my hands together and put on a lordly, pompous accent. “Are  _ you _ calling  _ me _ an irrational measure?”

“Well I wouldn’t call you, or this situation, rational,” She said with a smirk, “You’re the kind of guy who would measure a tree with a rope rather than by its shadow, after all.”

I paused for a moment, mouth half-opened. I raised a finger, but she leaned over and slowly pushed it back down before patting my hand. Her smirk remained plastered across her face the entire time. “Touché.”

“What, did you know that  _ and _ not think of it?” Anna asked, turning back to face the road again, “Because that’s even sillier.”

Oh, I knew trigonometry by  _ heart  _ at this point- my college major demanded it. “Not sure how I forgot that. It’s not as funny a mental image, though.”

“Still don’t get it,” she replied, still smiling faintly, “But at least you’re an entertaining irrational measure.”

“Glad to know I’m appreciated,” I said, looking out over the open fields of greenery.

Not too far ahead, the brush and shrubbery evolved into a forest that surrounded the road. Branches arched over the packed earth, casting thin beams of sunlight that rippled like water in the breeze. Shadows flickered in the gaps between trees, and something in my stomach wound itself tight. 

With Anna’s mention of bandits echoed through my head, I kept my eyes trained on where I’d seen the movement. “Anna,” I called quietly, “Did you see-”

“Too tall to be deer,” Anna answered, one hand moving to check for her dagger. “And we’ve been unreasonably lucky.”

I looked to my sword, which was leaning against the front of the wagon. “What’s our action plan? Springing the trap seems risky, so...”

Nodding, Anna tapped her chin. “I can’t really figure out how many of them there are, and more importantly, how many of them have bows or magic. Springing the trap would be a gamble, and one that probably leaves us both dead. I’m thinking we make a turn, unbuckle the horse, and force them to come to us.”

The knot in my stomach tightened as I laughed nervously. “You’re certain it’s not some deer?”

Anna nodded silently, tugging on the reins. The horse tossed its head, turning slowly- which was followed by a  _ thump _ as the cart’s front wheels rolled slightly off the road. She leapt down with her usual grace, swiftly moving to detach the horse from the cart. The movement was practised to perfection, no doubt done countless times. Grabbing my sword, I took a much less graceful drop off the cart. I put my hand to one of the giant pockets in my outfit (thank you, costuming) and confirmed that the Fire Tome was still there. 

Looking over at the forest- and seeing that the shadows were now distinctly human- the tug of the Tome’s magic started to feel comforting. I wondered if I could actually make use of sparks in a fight- because a fireball would require actual practice and time I didn’t have. “Yeah, I see them. Looks like they’re not very patient.”

“Good,” Anna replied, patting herself down and pulling another dagger out of... somewhere. She looked me up and down. “Are you ready for this?”

I looked down at my feet, left hand resting on the grip of my sword. A hundred thoughts and a thousand worries bled from my thoughts, muscles twitching and heart pumping. The soldier ripping their axe so casually out of a man’s chest- I could still hear the sound. Taking a long, shuddering breath, I made eye contact with Anna. Red eyes glinted like polished steel, lips set in grim confidence. My voice came out quietly, trembling with my heartbeat. “I don’t know.”

Her expression twitched slightly. “Don’t let me down.”

Words got caught in my throat. I couldn’t answer her.

[][][][][][][][]

They didn’t wait long. A single man stepped out of the woods, stroking his unkempt black beard in one hand while hefting a massive axe in the other. His armor was a patchwork of Walhart’s crimson and standard brown. Deserters, maybe?

“Listen,” he shouted, voice thick with what I assumed was a Valmese accent, “You give up the goods and your woman, you go free. We’ll even let you keep the horse and cart.”

My hand clenched around my sword, and I barely managed to bite back a response. I shared a glance with Anna. Flicking her eyes towards the woods, she gestured with her chin towards the bandit. The knot in my stomach and the dull throbbing in my chest grew, contracting only slightly after a few calming breaths. I couldn’t do this- but perhaps as an actor, I could pretend. Maybe even rig things in our favor.

I stepped forwards, watching Anna scan the woods for bandits. Clearing my throat and squaring my shoulders, I raised my voice to answer, wincing as it trembled. “Unfortunately, I cannot see myself parting with the woman. She is not mine to give, you see.”

“ _ The woman _ ,” Anna muttered, “Really?”

“Kill me later,” I shot back, “They might think you’re an easy target this way. How many?”

“I count five, including the leader,” She said with a sigh, “Doable, but dangerous.”

The man who I assumed was the leader spoke again, and I could nearly taste his sanguine excitement from here. “ I’ll give you until the count of ten before we slit your throat and take it all from ye.”

“I enjoy being alive, honestly,” I said, unsheathing my sword. Muscle memory directed one shoulder forward and the other back, hopefully minimizing the space the bandits could hit. “How do you feel, Anna?”

“Unless you’re an artist, you can’t make money when you’re dead,” She replied, hefting a dagger. Frowning, she looked between it and the bandit leader, who had counted to eight at that point. She drew her arm up, curling her wrist, and smirked. 

The swarthy man never got to ten. He let out a pained gasp, cut short but forever burned into my memory. Blood, seeping from his mouth, oozed through his beard and onto the hilt buried in his neck. The man fell to his knees before collapsing like a puppet with cut strings. Time staggered to a halt as I watched the road grow crimson around the body. 

Four men burst from the treeline, each a patchwork of soldier’s leathers and stolen armor- I barely heard Anna’s breath catch over the pounding of blood in my ears. Their shouting slammed into us like a wave of tar, pushing down on my knees and worming between my fingers. But it did not force me down- no way in hell am I dying  _ here _ .

One more bandit was brought to his knees before they were able to get to us, sent down by a dagger planted straight in his eye. That left us with three- one closer to me, and two closer to Anna. So much for rigging things in our favor. She still had one dagger on her, and I doubted she planned to throw it.

I stepped forward, bringing my sword sideways in a sweep that the bandit blocked with their own. He grinned toothily, eyes sparking as he leaned into me. This was something I knew how to deal with- twisting my grip and placing my hand along the flat of my blade, I watched his sword jerk downwards. I yanked my guard back as he stumbled, slamming my elbow upwards into his chin. 

His head snapped back with spewed profanity, sword dropping from loosened fingers. Bringing my sword around, I locked eyes as I reared back into a stab. 

I couldn’t do it.

Diverting course, I watched as the sword cut like butter through his shoulder armor and slide out again painted red. His arm dropped nervelessly as he collapsed, still cursing in a language I couldn’t discern. Hearing the clatter of metal, I turned to check on Anna.

One of her opponents had a slit throat, and the other was using wild swings of an axe to drive her backwards. Each dodge she made was precise, calculated, and executed with such fluidity that it was like watching a dancer. I stepped out of her way, coming around to the side to try and harry the bandit. 

The bandit cursed, eyes blazing, and took a wide swing that nearly took my head off as he angled to keep an eye on me. Anna stepped out of the way-

And I heard her shout, thrumming with adrenaline, as the man I’d sent down grabbed her by the ankle. The axe-swinging bandit took the chance, bringing his axe back around. Something shifted in my thoughts, sending sparks through my body. Wordlessly, I charged, ducking under his swing and burying my blade into his ribs.

Anna couldn’t dodge. She could only fall backwards as she struggled to get out of the fallen bandit’s grip. The axe continued despite its wielder’s screams, barely missing her nose before making contact with the edge of her chin. It slammed into her shoulder and sent her in a spin before clattering to the ground as the bandit collapsed. I tried to yank my sword out of him, turning to look at the bandit who had grabbed Anna. 

There was a dagger buried in his chest, hand slackening as she wriggled her way out. Wordlessly, she stood up and stomped straight on his trachea before putting a hand to her lip. “How do I look?” She said breathlessly, chest heaving.

I turned to look at her and blanked for a moment, grunting as I finally pulled my sword out of the bandit’s chest. It came out with barely a stain, shining white in the light of day. “Sorry, what did you say?”

Anna groaned. “You don’t look very concerned, so I’ll take that as a positive. How does the cut look?”

Calling upon my rusty first-aid training with a surprisingly clear head, I leaned forward. My voice, though, reflected the hammering of my heart and the trembling in my limbs. “N-not bad. I’m m-more worried about your shoulder.”

“Yeah, me too. It didn’t cut skin, luckily. You know where the-” With one hand, she fumbled with the collar of her tunic before managing to pull it down to expose her shoulder. That same hand explored the side, and she bit back a curse. “That’s going to bruise quite a bit. You know where the vulneraries and staves are, right? Can you grab one of each?”

I nodded quietly as I looked away. Walking unsteadily, I hefted myself into the cart as muscles started to ache. The knot in my stomach crept back as well, reminding me of what I  _ hadn’t _ done. Banishing those thoughts, I grabbed the supplies and leapt out to find Anna putting a dagger through the axe bandit’s neck- apparently he’d survived. She then sat down in the grass, crossing her legs.

As I approached, Anna reached out to take the Vulnerary before wincing. “Right. Hand me the staff. Take the fabric off the top of the flask and soak it, will you?”

I let her take the staff with her uninjured arm. She brought it to her shoulder and took a long, shuddering breath as it began to glow. Blinking, I turned to my task, realizing I had no idea how Vulneraries worked before Anna told me. Either she figured out I was from further away from expected, or she was used to dealing with idiots. Hopefully the latter. 

Anna brought the staff down with a groan, letting it clatter to the ground. Her hand went to the injured area, prodding it gingerly. “Those are not pleasant, and I think it’ll need some rest before I move it again. Healing was never my forte.” 

“Uh,” I said, looking at the blood starting to drip down her chin, “Should I...”

Blinking, Anna looked at me oddly. “What? Just put the rag on the wound. I need to finish healing my shoulder.”

Hesitantly, I knelt down in front of her and pressed the soaked rag to the cut, which ran from bottom right corner of her lip down to her chin in a slash. She hissed, one hand going to the staff as she brought it up to her shoulder. “I’m guessing this stings, but try not to move your mouth to much,” I muttered, eyeing her shoulder. “Sorry, by the way.”

She raised an eyebrow, rolling her eyes as the greenish healing glow of the staff illuminated both of us.

“Right, I literally just asked you not to talk,” I mused. Sighing, I looked away. “I’m sorry because I should have made sure that bandit was-” My throat tightened. “I didn’t make sure he was dead, and you paid for it.”

Anna rolled her eyes again, dropping the staff and putting a hand over mine on the rag. I quickly removed my own hand as she rose to her feet, moving the rag to soak up some of the blood. The cut had, impressively, healed right over, leaving a light white mark in its place. I stood up as well, stepping back to give her some space. “Will that stick around? The mark from the cut, that is.” 

There was a pause. Anna leaned forward flicked me in the nose, making me jump slightly. “One thing at a time, Andrew. I should have been looking where I was going, and you paid it back by stabbing that guy in the ribs.”

I flushed, putting a hand to my nose. “I didn’t actually expect it to go straight through, and you did most of the work. That dagger throw-”

“You looked horrified. Trust me, it gets old fast,” Anna commented dryly, pulling the collar of her tunic back up, “And if you’re just going to butter me up, just get to the point.”

If any part of my cheeks wasn’t flushed, they were beet red now. I looked away. “I’m not sure there was a point.”

She gave me a strange look. “...Let’s just get the bodies out of the road and be on our way before you put your foot further into your mouth.”

[][][][][][][][]

I’d like to say that I made some realization about the grim nature of war or felt much of anything when dumping the bodies with Anna. 

I didn’t. Seeing their pale, lifeless faces rang hollow in my heart, leaving only a dull throb.

[][][][][][][][]

Our combat diversion left both of us drained- Anna nearly passed out in the seat before handing me the reigns. This once again left me with my muddled thoughts, a blend of panic, doubt, and a scorched knot in my stomach. 

Watching as golden light gleamed in countless leaves of the Mila Tree, my memories turned endlessly. Again and again, I watched my sword bury itself in a man's shoulder- and the thousand ways that choice would have left Anna bleeding out. And, not long after, I would have joined her. Each repetition, I saw the man's eyes, moving from fury to fear. I  _ felt _ my sword cut through tendon and flesh, staining metal crimson and soil a wet brown. Shifting back into reality, I took a long, shuddering breath to calm a raging pulse. It worked, somewhat.

Gold gave way to red as the Sun reached the horizon, shining directly into my eyes. Not quite willing to let go of the reins to shade my eyes, I decided it was as good a time as any to stop for the day. "Anna," I whispered, "How about we stop here?"

She didn't stir, instead choosing to slouch onto the crook of my elbow. Cute, but I needed that to operate the cart. I shook my arm a bit, and Anna grumbled in her sleep before slowly lifting herself off. Looking vaguely in my direction and shading her eyes, Anna worked her jaw. "What is it?"

"The sun's about to set. Figured we should stop or something," I said, matching her low volume.

"Oh," she replied, shifting to face forwards, "Yeah, we should." 

Something bubbled up from my throat, coming out as a strangled laugh. I let it happen, feeling the knotted pain wash away as Anna looked on strangely. "S-sorry," I said with a fading chuckle and a tear in my eye, "It's just that you're usually so... In charge, I guess."

"You are a strange man," Anna sighed, a smile working onto her face, "But at least you're the entertaining kind of weird."

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I replied, gesturing with my chin towards the stretch of forest up ahead, “How about we stop up there?”

She leaned forward, squinting in the fading light. “Sure. I’d rather not be in the open tonight, so let’s pull up at the edge.”

[][][][][][][][]

I didn’t have the patience to light the fire normally, so I used the Tome again to skip the flint and steel. Soon, we had embers soaring and swooping into the sky. Of course, unless we wanted uneven heat, we had to wait a little bit before setting up a pan. So we sat, staring into the fire, my thoughts flickering with every whorl of orange light. 

“Didn’t know you could use magic like that,” Anna grunted, unbuckling the armor from one of her legs, “A lot of mages are terrible at precision.”

I frowned, mulling over her phrasing. “As in, you didn’t know  _ I  _ could use magic like that, or...”

Anna glanced over at me with a faint smirk. “You, specifically. Tomes usually fizzle when trying for small stuff.”

“Huh,” I muttered, “Any idea why?”

“Well,” Anna started, unbuckling the armor on her other leg, “Magic is a very complex area of study that requires years of study to even scratch the surface on. I know that if I focus on a stick, it glows and can heal people. If I do that with certain books, I shoot cool stuff out of my hands.”

I snorted, reaching over to grab the pan. “So, you have no idea.”

“Yep,” she said, starting on her gauntlets, “Not a clue.”

Stars started to flicker into being, painting the sky in splashes of prismatic light. Crickets and night birds filled the quiet night air, a background upon which we were able to wind down after a particularly interesting day. The rustle of leaves and the crackle of wood was nearly enough to put me to sleep on its own. 

Once I thought it was hot enough, I started tossing components onto the pan for one of my favorite meals. 

“Stir fry, huh?” Anna said, leaning back onto a crate she’d pulled out. “I had you pegged as a soup man, given the chance.” She shifted, adjusting the bedroll she’d turned into padding for her makeshift chair.

“Well,” I said, shuffling the cut vegetables (I had no idea what they were, honestly) and dried meats around with a spatula, “You have a lot of surprisingly fresh ingredients, and we did soup twice in a row.”

“What’s wrong with three times in a row?” She fired back, putting a finger to her chin as she grinned.

“It gets boring, and I’d rather...” I took a breath, stuffing some knotted thoughts back down, “I’d rather do something that distracts me. How often do you make soup for yourself?”

“Pretty much all of the time. Preservation spells aren’t that hard, just energy intensive- so I can store soup stocks for  _ months _ with no real issue,” She said cheerfully, her voice filled with a surprising amount of passion, “And soup is one of the best things ever invented.”

“Other than money?”

“Other than money, obviously.”

I shrugged, hiding a smile. That stuff about preservation magic was cool, but I was more interested in how serious she was about soup. "Really? Soup is that good?"

"Absolutely. Breakfast foods are great, but soup can be so much more than a single meal!" She waved a hand vaguely outwards, tossing a curl of red hair out of her face, "You can cook a huge pot for dinner, throw a preserving spell on it, and then have it for breakfast, lunch, dinner... Just add a little bit more each time, and you're getting huge mileage out of a single pot meal."

"So it's about money, huh? Talk about a one-track mind," I replied absently, adding a bit more water to the stir fry, "But hey, makes getting presents easy." Hearing Anna talk this much at once was bizarre and entertaining.

Anna huffed. “Okay, maybe that enhances the appeal of soup. But it’s not all about money, you know. There’s this...” She frowned, chewing her lip for a moment, “Soup’s got this homey feel, right? It’s very comforting, and on top of that you’re not at all limited in ingredients.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And you can make soup anywhere! Buy some meat, veggies, a starch; with some basic spices you can make a little bowl of homey goodness. And you’re telling me,” She says, drawing my attention away from the cooking, “That you think  _ stir fry _ is better than that.” 

Her features were cast in sharp relief by the firelight, eyes sparkling as she blew another curl of bright red hair out of her face. I blinked, shaking my head. “Uh. Well, yeah. I like soup a lot too, but sometimes I don’t need my food sitting in a liquid.”

“That’s not a valid excuse,” Anna said, “You can drink the broth after picking out the solid bits.”

“Fair,” I paused, trying to compose an argument, “Look. It’s partially a consistency thing and partially a stylistic thing. Stir fry’s got specific taste to it and the individual parts can have a distinct taste without really harming other flavors. My example? Garlic.”

She groaned. “What a cop-out argument.”

“No, it’s perfectly valid!” I defended, scooping the stir fry onto two plates, “What kind of sauce do we have?”

“Mostly soy sauce. If you plan on making this frequently, then we can look into getting other sauces,” Anna replied, accepting the plate and pulling a bottle of soy sauce out of the crate. Taking a bite of the meat, she nodded. “Good job. You were saying?”

I coughed, taking a bite of my own. “Could use some fried rice to go with it. Anyways,” I started again, trying to track down my own train of thought, “I said something about garlic, right?”

Anna nodded, sprinkling sauce onto the stir fry before passing the bottle to me.

  
“Thanks. Garlic, right. Garlic is a really strong flavor, and if you put it in a soup,  _ everything _ is now garlic flavored. In a stir fry, you can have garlic flavoring on things without it overwhelming the individual flavors, right?”

“I guess,” Anna replied around a mouthful of food, giving an exaggerated, one-armed shrug as she did.

“And you can even have chopped garlic in a stir fry, no problem. Okay, maybe a small problem,” I amended as Anna raised an eyebrow, “But still!”

We paused, taking a moment to eat. 

Anna practically inhaled her food, and I followed along at a more sedate pace. I grinned. “Anna, this isn’t soup.”

“It is if I want to be,” she grumbled, crossing her arms, “It makes me feel better about not having soup.”

I reached out, ostensibly to flick her on the nose. I hesitated, eyes catching on the pale white slash on her chin. She took the moment and flicked my nose. “Damnit, Anna. You know you liked the stir fry, you told me as such!”

She grinned as I covered my nose. “It was good, not  _ soup _ -good.”

With a sigh, I pulled the pan off the fire finally and shrugged. “Your narrow-mindedness on stir fry hides a whole world from you, Anna. If only you would see the truth.”

Anna looked at me, eyes shining, and  _ laughed _ . It wasn’t like the chuckles or the stifled giggles she’d given me before- it was a genuine thing that lifted my heart and cleared my thoughts. Laughter had that effect on me, generally. I then realized that I was laughing too. The absurdity of the situation was just too much for me, and Anna was all it took to set it off.

Once all that remained was a few sniffles of laughter to break the sounds of fire and night, I wiped a tear from my eyes. “That,” I said quietly, “Was nice. I think I needed that.”

“Me too,” Anna replied, her voice matching mine. “Andrew?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“If I am, so are you.”

The stars were beautiful that night. Watching them shine overhead was more than enough to lull me to sleep, happy and with a full belly.

[][][][][][][][]


	3. Arguments and Rescues

Birds sang in mist-hung trees as we set out the next morning, the clopping of hooves echoing off the nearly solid sheets of golden light. Above it all, framed by frosted peaks, rose the Mila Tree in its glory. Laurels of mist dripped from its sun-gilded boughs, shining and shimmering in the fickle breeze.

"I wish I was more of a poet," I said, leaning back in my seat, "But _damn_ is that pretty."

"Valm has enough poets, honestly," Anna muttered before speaking up, "The sunrises around here are stunning, though."

Wincing as my back tweaked slightly, I mulled over Anna's words. "Huh. Are they less pretty in Ylisse... or whatever continent Ylisse is on?"

"Eh, whatever weather they have there is a lot less prone to fog and mist," Anna explained, "So you get more sunrises that are pretty for the view. Personally, I prefer how colorful they are around here."

Looking at how the Mila Tree seemed to float among motes of burning color as the mist started to evaporate, I couldn't help but agree. "They look like watercolor paintings. I wonder why Valm gets so much mist?"

"Hell if I know," Anna mused, "Maybe something to do with the climate?"

"Anna, that's saying that it gets mist because it's prone to getting mist," I shot back with a small grin, "Now you're the silly one."

Anna rolled her eyes. "Archanea, by the way."

Blinking, I cast my thoughts back a few sentences. "Oh, that's the name of the continent?"

"It's the old name of it. It was renamed to Ylisse before the Plegian Crusade, I think?" Tapping her chin with a finger, she shrugged. "The best mapmakers out there still call it Archanea; they were less than thrilled by the old Exalt's ego."

Now that's interesting. I don't think that ever really got talked about in Awakening, at least in detail. It was odd to realize that for however much lore the developers had created, their game had taken on a life and history of its own. "And this is Valm- did it have another name?"

"Valence or something. Think they named it after some king or other," Anna shrugged, waving a hand, "Either way, it makes more sense than naming a continent Ylisse."

Her attitude sparked something in my thoughts. "I take it you're not the biggest fan of Ylisse? The country, that is."

Anna took a moment to stretch, one hand on her back as she twisted. "Ugh, didn't do my stretches," she mumbled with a wince. Frowning, she looked at me. "No, I don't like Ylisse. Exalt Emmeryn is nice and all, and they're an excellent source of revenue..."

"But?" I asked, mentally cursing. I'd forgotten to ask about the stretches, and my back was definitely feeling it.

"Look, I'm a merchant. We make money off of war, and we make money off of peace. Plegia and Ylisse? They're stuck somewhere in between, and nobody's trying to fix it," Anna said with a wave, chewing her lip slightly, "But it's better than being in Valm right now, honestly."

"Let me guess," I started, smirking, "Because it's harder to make money."

"Yup," Anna replied, popping the _p_. Tilting her head, she shrugged. "Actually, no. I'm sure Walhart's a very steady source of income, but with all the rebels around and the taxes he's imposing..."

I winced. "Ouch. Well, here's to Arch- uh, Archaknee?"

"Archanea."

"Right. Here's to Archanea," I finished, miming a toast with an empty hand, "For hopefully getting us a lot of money."

She matched the toast with a smirk. "To Archanea. And money."

[][][][][][][][]

As the Sun loomed overhead, beating on the still-damp land with incredible intensity, I saw something strange by the Mila Tree.

Shading my eyes, I leaned forward. "Anna?"

"Mhm?" She hummed, shifting in place, "You see it too? The thing by the tree?"

"Yeah," I said, trying to drink in the detail. It was... a circle of sorts. Floating about halfway up the Mila Tree, it had edges that glinted in the daylight, made up of-

Crystal. Recognition rang in my mind, a bell resounding with another. That was the gateway for Naga's time travellers, or it looked enough like it even from this distance.

"Some kinda eye in the middle? Definitely magical, definitely looks like a dragon eye," Anna observed, "Kind of pretty, honestly."

"It is," I agreed, "Not sure what it is either."

I snapped back as Anna snapped her fingers. In a singsong voice, she probed, "You're lying again, Andrew. What is it?"

Flushing and covering my face for a moment, I tried to pull my thoughts together. "I'm not sure if you'll believe me," I stalled, "Because it's pretty ridiculous."

"Try me," Anna said with a smirk, "I took your 'faraway land' excuse without batting an eye, didn't I?"

My stomach knotted, but my heart lost a dull throb that had been sitting there, unnoticed, for days. Turning to face her, one of my hands reached out to hers before snapping back. "You deserve an explanation, Anna." Taking a deep breath, I pulled every ounce of courage I had into one, tight bundle that nearly strangled my throat. "I'm... I'm not from this world, whatever this world is."

"That _is_ pretty ridiculous," Anna agreed tonelessly, "But you don't sound like you're lying. Continue."

Letting out a long sigh, I put a hand to my heart. "Where I come from, we have stories about this world. About the Shepherds, specifically. And..."

"And?"

"The Fell Dragon returns, Anna. The Shepherds fight him and lose," I paused for a moment, gauging Anna's reaction, "And their kids are left to pick up the pieces. Naga sends them back in time. It's- it's complicated, and I'm bad at explaining it."

For a long, terrifying moment, Anna _looked_ at me. Like, really looked. I felt her eyes cut through me, peeling me back as she considered it-

"You're right, Andrew. That was a terrible explanation," she laughed, looking at the Mila Tree and the now-vanished portal, "But I'm guessing that's what we just saw. One of the kids coming back in time?"

"Now, I know it's-" I coughed, thoughts coming to a halt, every metaphorical railroad ending in a massive pile-up. "Wait, you _believe_ me?"

She scoffed, crossing one leg over the other. "You're nuts, Andrew. Completely off your rocker," pausing for a moment, Anna shrugged, wincing as she moved her injured shoulder, "But you are a _terrible_ liar."

"So I'm either crazy enough to believe what I'm telling you, or I'm telling the truth?" I mused, scratching my short beard, "Huh. But yeah, that's what we saw- someone coming back in time."

"And you knew this," Anna pressed, "So you joined up with me?"

There was something tense in Anna's voice, and I watched a hand stray to her belt. I put both of my hands up. "Honest to goodness, Anna, I had no idea. I knew some of them showed up in Valm- but I didn't know you were here, or where you were going. I-" I coughed, looking away again, "You roped me into that little skit we did, but I didn't really have a reason or anything. I just kinda-"

She flicked me on the nose, putting an abrupt stop to my rambling. Which, in hindsight, it absolutely was. I felt my cheeks heat up. "Sorry about that. You, uh, get the point."

With a rolling, one-shouldered shrug, Anna looked forward again. "I think so. Who was it, do you think?"

I dug deep into my memory, calling upon the one Lunatic+ playthrough I did and the countless spreadsheets I made about it. "Well," I started, furrowing my brow and scratching my chin, "Owain, Inigo, Brady, Cynthia, and Bat-" I coughed, "Gerome, yeah. They all show up in Valm and-" Catching Anna's expression, I stopped. "I have some theories."

"That's helpful, at least," Anna remarked cheerfully, "So what's your plan if you run into them?"

Raising a finger, I opened my mouth. After a few moments, I closed it again and lowered my finger. "Not a clue, honestly. Probably point them in the direction of Plegia, because that's _probably_ where the Shepherds are?"

"Good call," Anna nodded, "We're heading to Regna Ferox, because the port authority there doesn't try and nick my stuff."

That was a relief. "Good. I know a lot of what's going to happen, but..." I looked at the Mila Tree, noting the portal had closed now. "I'm not cut out for the whole 'Shepherd' thing. Too heroic."

"And probably not very profitable. Heroism, just like rebellion, doesn't pay well unless you win," Anna agreed.

There was a long pause, broken only by the sound of hooves and the clattering of the cart. My stomach re-knotted as the tree grew in stature, but I wasn't sure what to say.

"So if you know all this stuff," Anna queried abruptly, sending me nearly a foot into the air, "Where were you that first... time? You're here now, after all."

I mulled it over for a bit, scratching my beard again. "Um. Well, I'm not in the stories, and- you have sisters, right?"

"Many sisters, yeah. Why do you ask?"

"Yeah, then you aren't in the stories either. So we probably met the first time around and never had this conversation. I'll," I chuckled, "I'll tell you the rest when we get there, actually."

Covering her mouth, Anna laughed lightly. "I suppose we will."

[][][][][][][][]

"You know, since my," I brought my hands up to make air quotes, "Uh, 'secret', is out- I can confirm that Walhart's going to conquer the entire continent. And based on how the Shepherds don't even realize it, they must have exports and imports on lockdown. That or they're incredibly oblivious."

"So what you're saying is that we're going to become incredibly rich off of tea," Anna concluded, "And with regulations coming in, people are going to want to liquidate stock as fast as possible."

"We aren't going to become incredibly rich off of tea, Anna," I corrected, "You're going to become _disgustingly_ rich and I will be somewhat rich."

"Any other tidbits that might be worth their weight in gold?" Anna prodded, "Also, the Mila Tree's around the bend. Prepare yourself, I guess?"

There was no way in hell I could prepare myself for meeting a future child, so I focused on the other question. "Well. You see, Valm wants to invade Archanea. I think it was something about Grima? But the important thing is, Ylisse needs _boats_ to sail over and kick Walhart's ass."

"And since I'm about to become disgustingly rich, you're suggesting I buy a lot of boats," Anna prompted, "Look, that's a lot of money if things don't turn out exactly as planned."

"Fair, fair," I looked up at the tree, thinking. "Well, we could-"

Our conversation came to a sudden halt as I heard a thunderous _whump_ of... something. A man started screaming. "That's... that's not good?"

"Understatement of the century," Anna muttered, "Any suggestions?"

"Um, uh," I scrambled through my memory, "Some Risen- these animate dead things- came through the portals occasionally."

"Great," Anna groaned, "And we can't avoid them?"

"If the future children die," I explained quietly, trying to calm my hammering pulse, "We're probably screwed."

She hissed. "I swear to Naga, if I don't get paid for this..."

My voice caught. "It's not all about-"

"Yeah, I know. It's not about the money, but I happen to quite like money," She sighed, flicking the reins. "We'll stop here and walk around the corner. Less risk for the merchandise this way."

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

[][][][][][][][]

Moving through the woods, we came upon the end of a bloodbath.

At least a hundred of Walhart's red-armored soldiers were formed up against a shrinking throng of grey-fleshed Risen, a cacophony of clashing metal and wet flesh. I nearly retched at the sight of it; they were all bulging muscle and stitched skin that barely held itself together. The soldiers were pushing forward, losing men but gaining ground. I heard Anna gasp from next to me.

"I know you said they were dead, but-"

Grimacing, I nodded. "Yeah. I didn't think they'd be this unpleasant either," I replied, trying to be as conversational as possible.

"So where's this... future child?" Anna muttered, "Because if you don't see them, I think we should just go."

Logically, I agreed with that. And yet... "Risen can't come through on their own, Anna. Something came with them."

Anna sighed, stepping further into the brush and leaning on a tree. "Andrew, we're here because you wanted to be here. If you _really_ want, we can wait this out and see the Voice after."

She didn't sign up for this, but it still felt like a hot coal had been dropped in my stomach. "Maybe the traveller is hiding up there?" I suggested, clearing my throat.

The pause couldn't have lasted more than a second, but watching as a Risen smashed through armor, only to get taken down by three or four soldiers surrounding them, made it drag on forever. Finally, she spoke. "Look-"

There was a tremendous, rattling _roar_ from above, followed by the sound of wood shattering. Broken branches and splintered limbs crashed onto the battlefield, scattering soldiers and crushing a handful of Risen. I heard shouting from the back lines, but I couldn't focus on it. "On second thought, Anna, I agree. Let's go."

"This is exactly what I meant," Anna said idly as she turned away, "I'm sure they'll be fine, anyways."

My heart ached dully, but I followed Anna back to the cart anyways.

[][][][][][][][]

"Well," Anna started as we pulled away from the Mila Tree, "That was interesting."

I frowned. "I feel like we shouldn't have left."

Scoffing, Anna leaned back in her seat. "And what would we have done? Die to those... Risen?"

Working my jaw, I tried to formulate a reply. I couldn't even come up with a retort that felt _right_ , and Anna would see straight through any dishonesty. As the silence dragged on, Anna raised an eyebrow. "Exactly, Andrew."

But it didn't feel right to leave. What if Walhart's soldiers lost, and the Risen got to Tiki? She could protect herself, I was certain. But what if she couldn't manage it, and she died? The Azure would be lost, and this timeline would be over before it even had a chance to start. More importantly, who had come through the time portal? Whomever it was, I hoped they were okay.

And then my worries came crashing down in front of us. Literally.

I heard a pained roar that sent my hands to my ears, saw a blur of white and green, and _felt_ the tremor as something crashed into the earth. A plume of soil marked its landing site as barely ten meters in front of us- directly in the road.

"Oh, come _on_ ," Anna groaned, "What now? Is this something from your stories?"

"I'm pretty sure I already said the stories were focused on the Shepherds," I shot back, immediately wondering where the venom in my voice had come from. "Er, sorry," I added with a flush, "Guess I'm a little cranky."

Anna waved a hand. "Today has been weirder than you are by a long shot. I don't blame you."

Squinting in the mid-afternoon light, which was inconveniently gleaming off the still-damp grasses, I felt a simultaneous burst of hope and a massive knot of dread. "Anna," I started, "Do you see what I'm seeing?"

"For once, Andrew, no. What _do_ you see?" Anna replied, pulling on the reins.

"I think the Voice of Naga just crash-landed in front of us," I fretted weakly, hopping off the cart as it rolled to a stop.

"I feel like I must have done something to deserve this kind of day," Anna mumbled, "Can we move her out of the road?"

Knees weak, I ran straight into the divot of earth and nearly fell on my face before I reached Tiki. Even approaching her, I felt _something_ \- that reverent aura that made people treat her as something divine. Her long green hair and red tunic were surprisingly free of dirt, I noted, and save for some bruising she seemed... fine. Unconscious, but fine.

"We should take her with us, Anna," I blurted out, getting down on one knee to try and lift her up, mind racing as I tried to formulate some excuse. So long as Chrom got Azure, all Tiki did was help embolden the rebels. That was important, but... "She needs to be alive for things to end well."

"Uh-huh," Anna started, strolling towards me, "And she can be alive over there, and not in my cart."

What? I blinked owlishly, looking at Anna. "But-"

"I'm not stupid, Andrew. Those soldiers were there to protect the Voice," Anna said, eyes narrowing as she pointed at Tiki, "And they're going to want her back. She's a bargaining chip and a hostage, and a valuable one at that."

My heart clenched, heat flooding my veins. "Anna, come on. It's the right thing to do."

Anna made a long, drawn out sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose and tossing her hair over one shoulder. "Look, I'm already taking a risk with you. I _don't_ want to deal with getting hounded by the Empire, because if we show up _anywhere_ with her, we're going to get arrested and executed for treason. Walhart isn't one for half measures."

It would be so easy to agree- we could be on our way. Tiki would be fine. I started to stand up.

"There we go," She said cheerfully, sawing at my nerves, "Just pick her up, put her somewhere safe, and we can be on our way."

"Can't we just take her to somewhere safer?" I argued, trying to buy time. Maybe Anna's mood would improve in that hour or two, and I could talk to her about this.

"Nope!" Anna shot back, turning away, "You're going to try and be sneaky about it. But it won't work, and I'm not willing to risk it."

I took a long, shuddering breath, looking at Tiki. The Voice of Naga, keeper of the Azure- we could have run away. Part of me wanted to. In the shadows of my mind, I saw the man I'd nearly killed- the one who nearly caused Anna's death because of it.

"Andrew?"

I knelt down, sliding my arms under Tiki and hoisting her up in a bridal carry. My back ached, but I ignored it.

"There we go. Just put her by the side of the road, Andrew. Maybe over by those bushes."

"No," I said, turning to Anna, "No, I won't."

She groaned, putting a hand to her face. " _Now_ you turn into one of those heroic types? Of all times? Andrew, look. The Voice of Naga is important and all, but she'll be fine. The Empire was willing to protect her, even if it was probably as a hostage."

Pain wormed its way up from my heart, wrapping around my throat. Tiki shifted in my grip. "Anna, please," I said quietly. Why was I so set on doing this?

"And?" Anna bit out, taking a step back and putting a hand to her belt, "You're not even making sense, Andrew- why is this so important to you?" She scoffed, the sound causing my eye to twitch. "We'll have to hide her. She won't even be worth-"

The dam broke, my chest filling with a burning, molten fury. I couldn't tell you why I felt it- but I did. "Worth _what_ , Anna? Is it because she won't be worth money to you? Is that all the _Voice of Naga_ means to you?"

Her voice cracked as she raised it to match mine. "Money is _something_ , Andrew. You can't put bread on the table or buy a sword with _sentiment_."

"Well maybe I don't care about the money," I shouted back, heart thundering as I stepped closer to her, Tiki still shifting in my arms. They should be sore by now, but I couldn't feel a thing. "She's- Tiki could help us, you know. She could help the Shepherds, make things easier-"

"So _what_ , Andrew? Those people _aren't us_ -"

My voice died, and my blood froze. Gently, I set Tiki down in front of me. "That doesn't make them less important, Anna. That's why I-" I couldn't get the words out, let alone see Anna through all this water in my eyes. "That's why you got hurt," I finished quietly, looking away.

"Because you couldn't kill a _bandit_ , Andrew?" Anna shot back, the fire in her eyes flickering slightly.

"Because I don't want to kill anyone, Anna. I don't even-" I bit back a shuddering gasp. "I don't want to be here, Anna. I want to be home, with my family. I have nobody here, Anna- if all I am to you is _money_ , I have _nothing_ here. This costume?" Picking at the dirtied red fabric, I forced out a laugh, "Property of the theatre department. Of Mr. Stevens, from stage tech."

My voice failed me, sound halted by the lump in my throat. So I stood there in silence, staring at the dirt and scuffing my boots. Seconds dragged out, counted by my stuttering breaths and the pounding of blood in my ears. I couldn't look at Anna right now, couldn't show my face.

As the world opened itself to me again, I heard the crunch of boots in wet soil, heard it fade with every step.

The world really does have a sense of humor, I guess. No wonder Anna didn't like heroes- irrational, argumentative, and always getting in the way of trying to live a normal life. I wasn't even a hero, couldn't even save one person without losing another. I wiped my face, wondering when it had gotten so wet, and laughed again. Why the hell was I crying? Why did I care so much about this? "Sorry, Tiki. Maybe I could have convinced her to trade, take you along."

"Oh, stuff it, you crybaby," Anna shouted, causing me to start, "I'm just making space in back."

My heart soared, the ice in my veins warming as I scooped Tiki up. I was bewildered by Anna's sudden turnaround, but I wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. As I came around to the back of the cart and saw Anna, moving crates and bags, I smiled. "Thank you, Anna," I blurted, voice shaking, "I could hug you right now."

She raised an eyebrow. "Didn't take you for the touchy-feely type, Andrew."

For some reason, that made me laugh.

[][][][][][][][]


	4. Quiet Night, Rainy Day

Embers danced like fireflies against the silver light of the moon, flickering between tongues of orange fire that held my thoughts in a cage. Leaves rustled, and in the distance I could hear owls hooting. The cooking stand was set up over it, but I didn't really want to eat anything.

I didn't want to go to sleep, either.

Tiki turned over in her bedroll, mumbling in her sleep. I almost wanted to blame her for how Anna had acted; I hadn't gotten a word out of her after I got back on the cart. She watched me from time to time, but I found that words failed me as well. I couldn't manage a whisper even when she had stood up and walked away from the fire. I watched her enter the cart at least an hour ago, and I doubted she planned to come back out tonight.

Maybe I shouldn't have helped Tiki. And yet, every time I replayed the situation in my head, I found nothing that I'd want to change. Even if it had cost me Anna's trust, or at least her company. I chuckled to myself as I thought about it- I'd become attached to the first person to show me any sort of kindness, and expected she'd care as much as I did.

That treadmill of ideas came to a stop as Tiki yawned, emerging from the bedroll with a stretch that looked incredibly uncomfortable. She'd taken off those long boots, I noted, watching as the Voice took in her surroundings with bright green eyes. Equally green hair tumbled around her shoulders and broad, pointy ears in one of the craziest cases of bedhead I'd seen in a while.

Blinking, she looked at the fire before sitting down on the crate Anna had left. "I did not expect to wake up here," she said, adjusting her long red tunic, "Or, perhaps, wake up at all."

"It took a lot out of you, whatever it is you did," I answered quietly, not meeting her in the eyes, "I'm glad you're okay."

"Your concern is appreciated. If I might ask, who are you?" She nodded, frowning as I dodged making eye contact.

"Andrew. It's what everyone calls me." My voice felt far too fragile, coming out in bursts as my somewhat muddled thoughts struggled to catch up.

She chuckled. "Then I, too, will call you that. May I ask how I ended up here?"

I frowned. "You crashed into the road in front of us- I think you were a dragon at the time- and I convinced, uh, my travelling companion to let you come along."

Tiki tilted her head, looking off into the night sky. "I don't recall how I ended up like that. The last thing I saw was... a strange, dead being. A servant of Grima."

"They call them Risen," I supplied, "I didn't know they made it up the Mila Tree."

"Risen," Tiki said, seemingly tasting the word, "That is a good name for them." Putting a hand on a shoulder and stretching the muscles, "Ugh. I still feel quite sore. Do you, by chance, know how the Risen got there?"

With a sigh, I collected my thoughts. Might as well bite the bullet. "Are you aware of the time-travelling children?" I asked, hoping I wouldn't have to explain.

"I saw them in my dreams, but I couldn't tell how real they were. These Risen fell through Naga's portal?"

"That's my guess," I shrugged, "We only saw the portal from far away." Huh, wasn't Naga the mother of Tiki? On that note, didn't Tiki generally act a lot less formal than this in her supports? Her guard was probably up. "You're taking the fact that I know the future quite well."

"I hadn't thought of that, but thank you for telling me."

Okay, so I'd gotten ahead of myself. "Well," I started with a weak grin, "You're taking it quite well now, too."

Her smile was lit by the soft glow of dancing flame as she leaned forward. "When one gets to be my age, Andrew, it becomes difficult to be surprised."

And how old was that, exactly? "That's a relief, honestly. I've been very lucky so far."

"How so?" She asked, clasping her hands under her chin, "Your companion, I'm guessing?"

"Yeah. Anna-" I looked towards the cart, feeling a pang in my chest, "Anna believed me."

Leaning farther forward, Tiki gave me a fanged smile. "Hm?"

Stiffening, I shook my head. "Don't worry about it," I poked the fire with a stick, avoiding Tiki's eyes again. "So Anna and I are headed to Regna Ferox. She's the one in charge, so you'll have to ask her about the details, but- what are your plans?"

With a rolling shrug, Tiki leaned back, layering her hands on her knee as she recrossed her legs. "Would you believe me if I said," She started, mischief gleaming in her eyes, "That I have no idea?"

"...Yeah, actually," I mused, scratching my chin, "Without that ritual, I'm not sure what you'll do."

Her posture rippled to rigidity, eyes dulling and smile fading. "I am not _weak_ , Andrew," She intoned, commanding my eyes to lock with hers, "Merely limited in my options."

Shuddering slightly, I put my hands up. "L-look, Tiki, that's not what I meant. I know you shifted into a dragon to fight those Risen, but I was under the impression you _couldn't_ shift without performing the ritual first."

Tiki loosened, but her back remained ramrod straight. "To perform the Awakening and summon Naga, one needs five gems set into the Fire Emblem. Each contains a portion of Naga's power-"

So that's how she did it? Maybe because she's so closely related to Naga, she can pull on it. "So you used the Azure as a Dragonstone, then? That's pretty cool."

Tilting her head, Tiki let out a small huff. "Don't interrupt your elders. But yes, I tapped into the Azure's power to defeat those... Risen. However, like any Dragonstone, the Azure can be damaged or even break with overuse."

I winced, bowing my head slightly. "Yeah, that sounds bad. So, since you can't really use your dragon form, what's your plan?"

"I've fought in more than my fair share of wars, you know," Tiki said, her smirk returning, "I would consider myself a generalist- though I haven't messed around with Tome magic in quite a long time. I can do without the bulk of my power."

The Fire Tome in my pocket hummed as my thoughts shifted to it, and I pulled it out. "Well, maybe you could teach me a thing or two? All I can do is start campfires."

She spread her arms in an apologetic shrug. "Magic was never something I had to work at. You will need a real mage to help you."

"Fair," I mumbled, putting the Tome away, "I mean, your mom is considered a goddess and you are _literally_ a dragon. You'd probably be pretty decent at magic."

Chuckling, Tiki folded her hands over her knees. "Being a Manakete has some perks, yes."

Our fire flickered in the cold breeze, and I mentally smacked myself. I'll need to play it off somehow. "Oh, I'm being a terrible host," I said with as much pomp as I could manage, "Leaving a lady in the cold and not offering her dinner? You must forgive me!"

Her eyes sparkled as she leaned forward, tenting her fingers. "Truly, the greatest sin a gentleman such as yourself can commit."

I smiled, reaching into the crate beside me and searching for a blanket. "I'll have to cook something up- wasn't feeling hungry tonight."

"Hm. What's on offer?"

Stir fry would be fast and easy to make. Glancing at the cart as I stepped around the fire, I suggested, "...How about soup? We don't have enough time tonight to make a stock from scratch, but Anna has a lot of preserved stock. Maybe chicken, rice, and vegetables?" Anna didn't have any noodles, for some reason. You'd think with all the preserved stuff she had, she'd have the stuff that was just fine without that kind of magic.

Accepting the blanket and pulling it around herself, she nodded. "Mm. That sounds good."

Anna had flasks of stock, which were either incredibly brilliant or brilliantly lazy. Reaching into the crate, I pulled out a flask of the stuff and removed the stopper it had as a cork. Placing a pot over the fire and pouring the concentrated stock in, I added water to dilute it to a reasonable degree. "I'd say you're in for a treat, but you've probably seen much better chefs."

Tiki shrugged. "We will see."

Laying fabric across a crate and placing a cutting board over that, I pulled out the ingredients: onions, carrots, something that looked like a leek, and celery. "How oniony do you like your soups?" I asked, frowning. Leeks could add a very neutral onion flavor, and I usually preferred them for stock. While she thought about it, I pulled some logs out of another crate and started extending the campfire, even placing the spare cooking stand over the unlit wood.

"Not very? I would prefer if there were onions, though."

Uh-huh. Pulling out a hefty kitchen knife with a pretty handle (Anna had good taste in cookware, it seems), I chopped the root off the leek. I could peel layers and wash, but I wasn't feeling that patient. Cutting horizontally save for the base, I sliced the leek up into half-circles and tossed them into a pan with oil. That would soften them up- I didn't want them being too hard.

Moving onto the next step, Tiki chuckling gave me a start. "What is it?" I asked, chopping the leaves and tips off of some carrots.

"Should you not be putting that pan on the fire?"

"Oh," I said with a flush, "Right."

Halting my dicing, I checked for my Tome. Once I had located that, I diced an onion into small squares, tossing that in with the leek. With that done, I used the Tome to light the second fire and placed the pan down on top of it. Reaching for a stirring spoon, I cursed- I needed an extra set of hands. "Tiki, could you push the leeks and onion around so they don't burn? I should have started with dicing everything."

She chuckled, shifting over in her blanket and taking the spoon. "You want them softened up, right?"

"Yeah." While I cut the carrots and celery, moving a bit more slowly than I'd like, I realized I had basically asked the Pope to help me cook. Well, Tiki was Naga's daughter- so really, Dragon Jesus was my co-chef. I nearly cut off a finger as I stifled a snort. At least Tiki seemed to enjoy the simple things. Though she was still a bit more stiff than in her supports, the Voice of Naga was good company.

"Right," I muttered, tossing the vegetables into the pan and sucking on my finger, "Now to watch the stock."

I picked up a second stirring spoon and tested the stock. Not quite hot enough, but the smell of it was starting to fill the clearing. "Smells good. Might be a few more minutes."

"Good. The onions and leeks have softened, by the way."

Looking away from the pot, I grabbed the cutting board and slid the diced vegetables into the pan. "Great- We're just trying to get the carrots and celery warm. Use your best judgement."

She chuckled again. "The Voice of Naga will judge these vegetables with the breadth of her wisdom."

"Looks like we have parsley, at least," I muttered, stirring the stock again, "Rough-chopped, can't let it sit for too long or it'll mellow."

"I am no expert chef, Andrew, isn't parsley usually 'mellowed' in soup?" Tiki asked, pushing the vegetables around with an elegant economy of motion, "These should be ready soon."

"Yeah, but we don't have any ginger-" I coughed, poorly masking a sudden laugh, "Yeah, we don't have any ginger for some reason. So playing up the parsley should enhance the flavor a little bit."

"I quite like ginger, so that's unfortunate," Tiki mused, "I'm afraid I don't get the joke."

"I meet two interesting and friendly women and neither of them appreciate my sense of humor," I grumbled good-naturedly, ignoring the sudden coldness in my stomach, "Honestly." Turning, I started chopping the parsley and sprinkling it into the stock.

Scratching her chin, Tiki frowned. "They are ready, Andrew. Could explain the joke to me?"

Still smirking, I ran a hand through my hair. "Great, great. Well, uh, it's kind of stupid- Alright, I have the mitts, so I'll hold up the pan as you scrape it all in- but it's because Anna's a redhead and I'm a bit of a strawberry blonde. So we have _gingers_ , but no ginger."

Tiki snorted ungracefully as she started to slide the pan's contents into the stock. "That is a terrible joke. No wonder- Anna?- no wonder Anna did not appreciate it."

"Put them in a little more slowly," I said shortly, "And it's your loss. I happen to be a fantastic comedian."

That made her actually laugh. "Your humor is terrible, but it is consistently terrible."

"I will take it as a compliment," I said proudly, setting the pan aside as the last of the vegetables were put in, "And now for the meat. Chicken, obviously."

Tiki leaned forward as I reached into a crate and pulled out a canvas sack. "How is the chicken preserved? Salt? Smoke? Ice magic?"

Ice magic, huh? I knew that existed in earlier games, but had never really contemplated the fact that Tiki was _around_ for those games. And for that matter, the obscure trivia part of my brain reminded me, the Azure was the Star... gem? Star-something. It was used to make a tome that was basically light magic, so that existed too.

"Andrew?" Tiki said, "Are you there? Looks like you're lost in thought."

"Yeah," I said, bringing myself back down to reality, "The chicken is preserved using, and I quote, 'preservation magic.' By my knowledge, Tiki, ice magic hasn't been a thing for a while."

Carefully reaching into the sack, I took some of the cut chicken that was left over from the first night with Anna- good, dark meat for the most part. "I have absolutely no idea how it works."

"That is a pity," she replied, scooting back to her spot as I put the sack away, "I always found Ice Magic to be fascinating."

"And probably great for preservation," I mused, inspecting the chicken with a knife, "Now that I think about history, Tiki, we've lost a lot more stuff than we've gained."

Tiki slumped slightly, pulling her blanket tightly around her. "It is a tragic consequence of the Schism," she said sadly, "So much of our history and knowledge lives only through a handful of my kind."

It seemed like an unpleasant topic for her, so I trawled my mind for better ones. "Uh. Changing topics, how did you end up crashing into the road?" Wait, no. That was a terrible topic choice.

Tiki raised a delicate eyebrow. "While General Cervantes' facial hair was excellent company, the man talked about himself far too much for my liking. After fending off the Risen in dragon form, I took the chance to escape the premises."

I chuckled. Maybe it wasn't such a bad topic- it kept her in the present, at least. "Seems reasonable," I agreed, using the soup ladle to scoop some of the rising fat off the top, "Hope you're not too hungry. It'll probably take a half hour or so before this is ready. Speaking of dragon form- how does that actually work?"

"I am quite hungry, but I think I am capable of being patient," Tiki smirked, leaning forward and straightening slightly. "How does _what_ work, precisely?"

Gesturing in her general direction, I shrugged. "At the moment, you resemble a human. When you hold some neat rocks, you turn into a dragon." I knew only the basics of the Manakete situation from reading wikis and playing some of the earlier games.

Smiling, Tiki stuck a hand back inside her blanket-wrap and came out with the Azure- a bright blue gem containing a frozen white flame that flickered in and out of existence as I watched. "That is a much better question, Andrew, and one I am not really that qualified to answer. It was last explained to me millenia ago, by a fire dragon known as Bantu."

Bantu. I knew that name, but I couldn't place it. "That you can remember it at all is really impressive, actually," I said with a wince. That could be seen as a shot at her age- and while she had leveraged it already, I had no idea how she'd react.

Tiki's eyes shone in the firelight. "I have a long memory," She explained, "But the point does stand. Dragons live for quite a long time to gain such memories."

Where was this going? "I guessed that," I replied bemusedly, "You're here, after all."

"Yes, yes," Tiki said with a smirk as she gestured to the Azure, "That's very astute of you. If a dragon did not seal the majority of their power away and become a Manakete, they would slowly go mad."

Gears turned in my head, wrapping Tiki's point around. "So what you're saying is, you don't suddenly _become_ a dragon when you use a Dragonstone..."

"I am already a dragon, yes," Tiki sagely answered, closing her eyes and stowing the Azure. She opened them again, pausing for a moment. "Or that's my guess, at least."

I coughed, trying and failing to stifle a laugh. "You don't actually know?"

Tiki shrugged, the blanket pushing up her long green hair in a way that made her look almost fluffy. "Nope," she said, tone suddenly shifting, "I wasn't a very good listener."

This time, I didn't even bother to suppress it. I laughed, feeling some of the aches in my body melt away. "Gods," I sighed, cooling off as Tiki looked at me with that glint in her eyes, "To think I was worried about this!"

"About what?"

I waved in her direction, I took a long whiff of the now-aromatic air. It smelled of, understandably, vegetables and chicken. Leaning over to inspect the pot and poking around with a ladle, I nodded. "Huh, the chicken should be ready for separating. Do you want to help?"

Neatly unwrapping the blanket and folding it in a practiced motion, she moved around the fire. "Of course. We are separating bits of meat with forks, right?"

"Unless you want an entire lump of chicken to eat with a spoon, yes. Here," I started, shifting the cutting board (and the crate it was sitting on top of) to sit between us, "I'll move the pot over to the other stand so it's not heating up as much, and then start getting chicken on the cutting board. There are forks with the cooking supplies- you know which crate that is, right?"

Tiki, who had started to kneel by the board, straightened and looked around. "Given there are five crates- two being seats, one being this table, and one being labelled 'Food'; yes, I know which crate it is."

We had a lot of crates. Anna really liked crates, I thought, throat feeling a little dry, and I had to agree with her. Looking over at the cart, I said, "Grab four forks and three spoons. The cutlery is in a long wooden box along the side."

"Right," Tiki replied, hesitating. She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it just as quickly. Huh.

She returned with the cutlery just as I set the second bit of chicken down. "No need to be precise about it, we just want it so there is actually chicken in a given spoonful."

"This is a lot of food," Tiki remarked, sticking two forks in the chicken and pulling it apart, "For two people."

"Three, maybe. Anna didn't eat before going to bed, and she really likes soup," I elaborated, putting the last bits of chicken down. I started separating it as well. "Also, I'm very hungry today, which is mostly my own fault."

"I see," Tiki nodded, focusing on her work.

We worked in silence for a few minutes, accompanied by crackling fire, chirping crickets, and hooting owls calling out into the night. A light breeze whispered through the grass, toying with the flickering flame, and dancing with the fleeting embers.

"You know," Tiki said, startling me as I started to scrape the separated chicken into the pot, "You never actually said what precisely you were worried about."

Putting a hand to my chest as I set the cutting board down, I grabbed a stirring spoon. "Oof. Startled me there, sorry. Right," I said, taking a moment to breathe, "Long story short, Anna wasn't too keen on taking you along, and neither was I at first. I was worried that you'd, I don't know, be difficult or something?"

"As it would make Anna liable to be upset with the both of us," Tiki mused, "Well. I must thank you again- it is good to be out and about."

"Don't thank me yet," I said, "She's been in a mood ever since she agreed. Probably mad at me."

Nodding, Tiki grabbed her crate-seat and dragged it over to be closer to the soup pot. "I see. When will the soup be ready?" She asked, bundling herself up in the blanket again. That tunic left a lot of skin exposed, so it couldn't have been the warmest thing out there.

I paused for a moment. "Well, I could add a bit more leek for some crunch, but I'm feeling pretty hungry right now."

"Now, then?" Tiki asked, leaning forward slightly.

"Yeah," I agreed, grabbing three bowls from the cooking crate and setting them next to the spoons from earlier. Taking a waft of it, my stomach grumbled- the heavy fragrance of chicken soup was intoxicating.

I carefully poured a bowl for Tiki, added the spoon, and handed it to her. She took it with a smile. "Thank you," She said curtly, taking a spoonful. "Mm. Much better than the sort of food Cervantes would bring. The man had no taste _or_ tastebuds."

"Dig in, then," I said cheerfully, pouring myself a bowl and raising my voice, "There's plenty of soup to go around."

"Is there salt?" Tiki asked, taking another spoonful. "It is tasty, but lacks salt."

I reached into the cooking supplies and came out with salt, which I sprinkled on my own soup before handing it to Tiki. "I generally season after cooking with soup- though in this case I just forgot completely."

Tiki chuckled, stirring salt into her soup. "Maybe making some lists would help?"

Shrugging, I went back to pushing vegetables around in my bowl. "Probably."

"Ah, did we wake you?" Tiki said, nearly making me jump again, "My apologies."

"No, I was just... reading, actually," Anna replied over the sound of crunching soil, voice slightly hoarse, "But I smelt soup and couldn't resist."

I reached for the extra bowl, doing my best to avoid looking at her. "Good. I made extra, just in case."

Anna's boots came into sight as I finished pouring- I bit back a hiss as some of the hot liquid got on my hand. "I'd warn you that it's hot," I said quietly, putting a spoon in the bowl, "But that's kind of obvious."

Taking the bowl from my hands, Anna glanced around. "Is there another seat around here?"

I turned around quickly, removing the cutting board and cloth under it from the crate it had been sitting on. "If by seat you mean crate," I gestured to the crate, trying to talk around a lump in my throat, "Then yes, we do. Courtesy of Anna, as with everything else around here."

Staring at her bowl for a long moment, Anna let out a strained chuckle. "I'll be sure to thank her when I see her."

We ate in tense silence- well, Tiki didn't seem to care. She just passed Anna the salt when asked.

[][][][][][][][]

"I think I will be retiring for the evening," Tiki said, setting down her bowl in a clatter that made me jump, "Thank you for the excellent meal, Andrew."

"I didn't prepare the stock, though," I admonished, blinking. I may or may not have ended up staring into an empty bowl for at least ten minutes.

"That is not even a refutation to my point. I extend my gratitude to the both of you for your assistance," Tiki replied, pointing to her bowl, "Is there something I should be doing with this?"

"I'll clean them before I go to sleep," I answered, hastily getting up, "I should've gotten a tent ready for you, too. My bad. Anna-"

Anna snapped up, blinking at me owlishly. "Huh?"

"Can I grab an extra tent for-" I started, pointing at the cart.

"Oh. Yeah, sure," she replied, looking down again. "Good thing you made so much soup."

Bewildered, I decided to just go and get a tent. I saw Tiki move over next to Anna, moving into a crouch. They exchanged words- not my business, and I wouldn't be able to really hear more than the buzz of their voices anyways. Conveniently, there were two tents- pegs and all- folded up in the back of the cart. I grabbed them and made my way back to the fire. "Seems you were prepared, Anna. Thanks."

She glanced at me oddly, brows furrowed, before looking back to Tiki, who seemed to be meditating on the bedroll provided. "It's no trouble."

"Can you help me set the pegs?" I asked, "I'd ask Tiki, but she looks like she's about to conk out on her own."

Tiki snorted, cracking an eye open. "Conk. I have not heard that one before," she mused, "Though I am afraid you are correct. Without the bulk of my strength, I fear my waking hours will be short."

Anna was already up, holding two of the pegs. She smirked faintly. "I like that word. I'll have to use it at some point. Alright, you grab back pole and I'll grab the front..."

We worked in silence as the fire started to fade. The crackling, shifting noises of the night swelled in the growing breeze, tussling with trees and meddling with grass. Getting Tiki into the tent was harder than setting it up; she was practically sleepwalking by the time we got her in. She mumbled a good-night to "Jeorge" and Anna before faceplanting into the top of her bedroll.

"Hopefully," I muttered, "Jeorge was a cool dude. Definitely dead, but I'll assume he was cool."

Anna, who had already seated herself by the fire, shrugged. "She must run into a lot of blondes."

"And a lot of Annas," I provided unhelpfully, taking a seat at a right angle to Anna.

"I'm aware of how far back my family line goes," Anna assured, looking up at the stars, "I wonder how similar we look, beyond the red hair?"

I'd never really contemplated just how bizarre Anna's situation was. "The stories from my world talk about that, you know," I remarked, "But they kind of treated how identical the Annas were as a joke. It was never explained. Speaking of, though- is any of that really true?"

Raising an eyebrow, Anna gave me a sidelong glance. "I do look like my sisters, yeah."

Hopefully I'd be able to differentiate them, I concluded, because otherwise Anna'd give me hell for it. If we were still travelling together, that is. With the way she looked at me now, I was certain we'd part ways at Port Ferox.

"Andrew," she blurted, drawing my attention away from the fire, "I..." She chewed on her lip, voice trailing off.

I suddenly found the ground very interesting, scuffing the soil with brown boots that I'd need to clean soon. Hell, I'd need to clean _myself_ soon. Taking a long, deep breath, I rolled a pebble around in the dirt. Whatever it was she needed or wanted to say, she'd say when she was ready to. Maybe she wanted to kick me out, a nasty corner of my mind rumbled. It was easy to believe that I could push her too far without realizing it.

"The Empire is going to want the Voice back," Anna concluded suddenly. If I hadn't been getting startled all night, I would have jumped. Looking up at her, I nodded for her to continue. "She's a risk, and-" Taking a breath, Anna closed her eyes for a moment and pinched the bridge of her nose.

Speaking softly because it was all I could manage, I assured her, "You weren't wrong about the danger, Anna. I- I'm not so sure about this either."

"It's just- why are you still _here?_ " she demanded, voice sharp enough to silence the night, "I don't understand." Her hands clenched, one wandering to her belt.

What? Why was I _here_? "I'm here because you said I could be, Anna," I guessed, feeling a knot in my chest, "But I don't think that's what you're asking."

Her only response was to grunt, still chewing on her lip. "Never mind," Anna huffed, standing up, "Good night, Andrew. Thank you for making soup."

Seeing her loosen up slightly, I felt some of my own tension ease away. "Good night, Anna. I'm glad you liked it."

Watching me for a moment longer, Anna returned to her cart. Once again, I was left alone with my thoughts. Even those slipped out of my mind's grip as I watched the fading embers dance into the silvery night sky.

[][][][][][][][]

I woke up slowly, kept halfway there by the steady rhythm of cold morning rain. Breathing in crisp air and watching it come out in faint clouds, I lay there for a long while. Birds sang in the distance, accompanied by the patter of rain and the constant breeze.

For a moment, I worried that the crates and food were at risk, nearly scrambling out of the tent before I caught the poncho sitting next to me. Memories rushed back- the rain had started last night, while I was still awake. I'd put the crates under a tarp of sorts before crawling into my tent and going straight to sleep. Still, the damage had been done to my morning fogginess. Pulling the poncho on over some underclothes and slipping on my boots, I slipped into the pounding storm.

Morning mist grew in thick sheets, wrapping everything in the muffled sound of rain. Grey clouds bled weak light from the east, enough to tell me that the day had started only recently. Sloshing through wet soil, I felt thick droplets fleck my face and send shivers down my spine.

I saw a red blob pop out of the cart, groan, and go back in. "Good morning, Anna," I greeted, raising my voice to carry over the rain, "I got everything under a tarp, don't worry."

Hearing only grumbling in response, I chuckled. "I always liked rain, honestly," I chattered to myself, bending down to inspect the waterlogged charcoal. Even before I put a hand to it, I could tell there was no hope of a hot breakfast. Luckily, I mused, we had leftover soup.

"Naga damn the rain," Anna shot back, practically vaulting out of the cart in a poncho.

"Unfortunately," a voice called out from behind me, muddled with sleep, "Weather is not important enough to pester Naga about. I happen to enjoy rain, myself."

"And I thought you were a woman of culture _before_ ," I joked, pausing to lift the soup pot with a grunt. "Rain is objectively the best morning weather."

"S'not culture," Tiki mumbled out, still inside her tent, "Just common sense."

Crossing her arms in a huff, Anna glared at the entirely innocent tent. "Do we have enough left for breakfast on the road?"

"Only because I am terrible at estimating portion sizes," I agreed, "Which I'll count as a win here. Even if cold breakfast soup is kind of _bleh_."

I heard some rustling from inside Tiki's tent as I handed the pot over to Anna. "Well, warm breakfast soup is an excellent dish," Tiki argued, pausing for a moment, "Is there by chance a reed coat or poncho I can use?"

Looking at Anna in askance, I watched her slip inside the cart with the pot and come out with another poncho. "Reed coats," Anna sniffed, "We aren't _barbarians_."

I took the poncho from her, utterly failing to hold back a smile.

"I will have you know that reed coats were fashionable in my day!" Tiki fired back, "Mar- Prince Marth himself used one from time to time, you know."

" _Your day_ was two calendars ago if we go by fashion," Anna muttered, "Andrew, break down your tent. I'll start working on the crates."

I placed the poncho in Tiki's waiting hand, which snapped back into the tent instantly. "My thanks."

"Again, thank Anna, she owns everything," I replied, moving over to my tent, "Including me, probably."

"Not legally!" Anna shouted over the rain, hauling one of the crates into the cart, "Slavery is outlawed in the Empire unless you're a prisoner of war."

Huh, neat. Wait a second. "You're not denying it, though!"

Tiki emerged from her tent, a pair of red boots sticking out from a brown poncho with a sleepy hooded face on top. She rubbed her eyes and yawned, looking around. "Is there anything I can do to assist?"

"I'll handle breaking the tents. If you can help Anna with the crates-" I paused, checking in visually, "Yeah, if you can help with the crates and the tarp, that'd be great."

And so, Dragon Jesus helped us by doing manual labor. I couldn't help but laugh as I packed the tents.

[][][][][][][][]

Once we got on the road, sloshing through mud and splashing through puddles as we did, I slipped into the back of the cart with Tiki to inspect breakfast. "Cold soup," I observed, "Is definitely food."

Tiki nodded, "Now, if it was _warm_ soup- that is truly an ideal breakfast."

"Pardon?" Anna exclaimed, turning around for a moment, "Can you repeat that?"

"She's already mentioned that she likes soup," I added helpfully, "You just missed it."

Anna's mouth twitched as she turned to face the road again. "So, which is better- Stir Fry or Soup?"

Oh _no_.

"Soup, obviously," Tiki replied instantly, "It is an ideal dinner food."

"See, Andrew?" Anna said smugly, "Soup _is_ better. The Voice said it herself."

I groaned. "Well-"

"Andrew doesn't agree?" Tiki admonished, narrowing her eyes, "And I thought you were a man of culture."

Letting out a long, exasperated groan, I smiled thinly. "One word, Tiki: Garlic."

[][][][][][][][]


	5. Mind of a Merchant

{}{}{Anna}{}{}

Andrew's big on rain, stir fry, and spacing out. I, like any reasonable person, wanted sunny days, soup, and something to toss around in my head in quiet daytime hours. When the rain didn't let up after an hour, maybe two, I handed the reins over to him so he could do his thing. It gave me time to catch up on a novel series I'd found in Roseanne. Maybe it was a string of steamy romance novels. Look, we all have our vices, and money doesn't count.

I tried to, at least. Have you ever tried reading something dirty with the Voice of Naga around? Not only did looking at her give me an awful knot in my stomach, but the Voice was _brimming_ with magic. My magically-attuned senses hummed around her and it was _not_ fun. Either Andrew didn't notice it through that thick skull of his, or he just didn't have the magical knack to sense it. Taking a peek through the thick canvas flaps, I saw him whistling a tune I didn't recognize while being bombarded by raindrops the size of my pinky. Thick-headed seems about right. At least he had a brain under all of that.

Tuning it out, I decided to organize my equipment. We'd made a mess of it this morning, trying to just get everything in my cart without any sort of rationale to it. Who in their right mind puts the cooking supplies in the middle of the cart? They go in the back left corner, easily accessible for any meal, and the crate of canvas goes closer to the front and next to the sewing supplies. You never know when you're going to need canvas, and anyone with eyes will overcharge you if they realize that! I know that because I've done it, no regrets. Won't be going back to _that_ corner of Valm anytime soon.

I ran out of things to organize really quickly. I was stuck with the choices of staring at the Voice, prodding Andrew about his future knowledge (which could make me incredibly rich), or reading a book of very questionable moral integrity in front of the Voice. Really, I was just back where I started, but in a more organized cart. Maybe it was a good thing I wasn't handing over the reins more often.

Those options weren't really _options_ , and I'd had enough time to mentally recharge after the soup discussion this morning, so-

"You know, for a merchant, you haven't stopped in many towns," Andrew mused suddenly, making my hands twitch. He had a knack for that, and I refused to tell him about it. His voice carried like you'd expect for an actor- a thespian, he called himself? You'd think there wasn't a thumb's width of canvas between us.

The Voice turned over in her sleep, mumbling about... something or other. I wished she would just make no sound at all- it helped me ignore her.

Calling upon my illustrious skills as a Merchant, and an _Anna_ at that, I visualized my entire route through Valm. "There isn't a lot between the Mila Tree and the port," I replied, leaning against the side of my cart, "And a lot of my remaining stock is higher end than what villagers would be able to shell out for."

He snorted, stifling a laugh. His sense of humor was, as usual, nonsensical and bizarre. "So you're going to liquidate at port?" Andrew inquired, "Seems like a good way to store money _and_ have high end stuff on hand if someone does have the cash."

Ooh, good catch. "Right on the money," I confirmed for him, putting a finger to my chin, "Almost literally." Medical supplies and Tomes were one of the safest investments out there, once you had the gold to sink into it. Buy anywhere at a decent price, sell anywhere else for _at least_ that price, if not more. Currencies rise and fall, but magic and medicine were constant. And with that loose cash... I smiled, trying to settling back into my book.

"Hey, Anna?" Andrew asked, sounding half a world away.

I was easily that far away, if not further. "Mhm?"

"That preservation spell. Is it, like, a Tome you have or..." Andrew trailed off. I wonder if he's shrugging?

Good question, though. "It's a staff, actually. Very pricey, good for a lot of uses if you treat it right," I explained, looking at the long, flat box I stored it in, "Why do you ask?"

"Tiki asked how you preserve food. Listed an entire branch of magic that doesn't exist anymore- Ice-when she speculated on the spell," he explained, his words winding in that way they do when he's rambling. I'll have to ask him why he keeps referring to the Voice by name like that. An entire branch of magic, though? You could do _fantastic_ things with that.

"And that's related to-" Huh, elemental magic and not healing, then? "Oh, so Ice was a _Tome_ magic." I wonder how much of it the Voice knew. I chewed on my lip for a bit, a habit I really had to work on.

"Yeah, that's where I was going with it. Given Tiki's natural talent for magic, I was hoping maybe we could, you know, reinvent an entire type of magic. Or something." Andrew's ideas never fail to both impress and shock me. No half-measures involved, ever.

With a huff of amusement, I told him as much. "You're ridiculous as usual," I began, the idea starting to warm, "If we pulled it off, though? That sounds lucrative."

He coughed awkwardly. Oh no, what now? "Might wanna be careful with that," he said hesitantly, "Tiki is an extremely charitable person and might get grumpy if we hoard the knowledge."

Come _on_ , Andrew. First you're a possible boon to my wallet, then you- I bit back those thoughts before they went to darker places again. It always left me in a terrible mood and that just soured everything. "Ugh. What is it with me and picking up nice people?" I complained, trying to sound cheerful.

"It's because you're a nice person," Andrew replied smoothly, practically whacking me in the face with it.

No, I'm really _not_ a nice person. The Voice will get us both killed, Andrew's going to try and save a burning village or some nonsense and get _himself_ killed- I'd rather have neither happen. Letting out a long, drawn-out sigh, I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Sure," I lied, trying to find a new subject, "But that's not important. Let's talk shop."

"What about?" Andrew queried, thankfully dropping the matter, "Because my knowledge is nowhere near encyclopedic."

If it was, Andrew, I'd be terrified but also very excited. But you're either really quick on the uptake, or you were thinking of something weird that happened to relate. "It just needs to be useful," I replied, the dryness in my voice audible, "Though I hadn't actually said what we were talking about yet."

"You pretty much only strike up conversation with me when my future knowledge is involved, Anna. It's not that hard to guess," he said frankly, his words prodding at my chest oddly. Was that really true? We'd talked about plenty of things-

But it was always him starting those conversations, wasn't it. "Really?" I asked, trying to refute him, "I mean, I guess you're right, actually." I'm not supposed to feel bad about that.

A bright beam of light cut through the gap in the canvas, making me wince and shade my eyes. I slid a bookmark into the book and set it down- sunlight meant less rain and maybe a rainbow, both of which are things I like.

"How's Tiki doing?" Andrew asked, "Still out like a light?"

I can use that word he introduced me to last night, excellent. "Yup," I began, popping the _p_ as I unfolded my legs and moved towards the front. Snagging a swatch of waxed canvas, I slid through the front and tossed the canvas down so I could sit next to Andrew without soaking my pants. "Conked out, as you would say," I finished, flashing a grin. Hopefully she would stay like that.

Andrew grinned back, taking a moment to stretch. "You _did_ say you'd use it," he commented, groaning a little bit as his back cracked, "Ugh. Good timing, by the way. The Sun's coming out."

Obviously. That's why I was here. I turned forward, squinting as the Sun tried to glare into my eyes. Sunbeams lit up the rolling fields ahead of us beautifully, the tall grass rippling like green waves. "Bad timing, more like. We're heading nearly due east until we reach the port." So the mornings would be like this a lot."

"And with a lot less forest, I'm guessing?" Andrew speculated, looking at the plains that were entirely empty of forest, "Because it looks like things level out here."

I paused for a moment to watch the faint rainbow, and I think Andrew did too. "Uh-huh. Really pretty, actually. A lot easier to see bandits, too," I provided, internally cursing as I remembered just how many mounted bandits I could run into.

"Do you even get bandits out here?" Andrew thought aloud, apparently _not_ reading my thoughts this time around, "Seems like a bad place for it."

"Just the opposite," I corrected with a groan, closing my eyes for a minute, "You get all sorts of mounted raiders out here."

"Ah," he said, looking out over the horizon with his bright blue eyes, "That probably sucks. Makes it more impressive that you're out here, really."

Aw, shucks. "I am very good at what I do," I informed him, "You saw my aim with those daggers."

His expression flickered for a moment before he looked back out over the plains. We lapsed into an amicable silence, watching the Sun slowly burst through the thinning clouds- and to my relief, the rain faded away. When the Sun finally emerged, setting the fields aflame in the glinting mist, Andrew's breath caught. "Screw being a poet," he declared, "I wish I was a _painter_."

One can be both, though. "I don't stock those supplies," I said mildly, shading my eyes against the growing glare, "Maybe I should?"

He rolled his eyes- well, Andrew doesn't roll his eyes. They twitch in a circle. "Anna, if you stock painting supplies just to charge me for them, I'm going to notice." A man after my own wallet, at least some of the time.

More importantly, he didn't say he wouldn't buy them. But to assume I wouldn't just do it to be nice? I huffed dramatically, crossing my arms. "Maybe not everything is about the money, okay?"

Andrew's head snapped to the side faster than I'd ever seen him move before, his dark blue eyes locking with mine. He held my gaze for a long time, mouth twitching. "Bullshit," he intoned, deadly serious, "I'm calling it."

Naga damn it, something about him makes me want to smile. "How ever would you guess?" I started pompously, putting one hand to my chest and fanning myself with the other, "My acting was _flawless_."

Puffing himself up, Andrew pounded himself on the chest with a free hand while keeping the other on the reins. "I will have you know," he began, matching my pompous accent with one even more flowery- was that a bit of Rosanne's accent I heard? Where did that come from? "I am a thespian. I am just that good."

I let my laugh free for a little bit, and Andrew joined me. Even if he is a bit of a stickler for do-gooding, he's fun to be around sometimes. Wait a second! We were going to talk shop and he just threw me off the path with that. "So. We were going to talk shop," I reminded him. He flushed and looked away.

"Talk what?" The Voice interrupted groggily, "What about a shop is so important to talk about?"

Truly I am cursed. I huffed, somewhat irritated by this diversion, and turned my head to face the canvas flaps. "Talking shop is an expression. We're going to talk about business."

"Oh," The Voice replied, still sounding somewhat confused, "I see."

"She doesn't see," Andrew provided helpfully, "Tiki, what Anna means is that to 'talk shop' is to talk about _running_ a shop."

"Thank you for elaborating, Andrew," The Voice continued, "Please, carry on with what you were saying." Finally.

"Though," Andrew interjected, just as I was about to open my mouth again, "We do need to talk about shopping eventually. Luckily, we're all in matching colors, but we really should pick up something less obvious for Tiki." Come _on_!

Of course we do. Because we're taking the Voice along for some reason. "Yeah, yeah," I grumbled, putting a finger to my chin, "We should pick up cold weather gear for everyone, actually. Ferox is cold this time of year."

With a snort, Andrew glanced at me out of the corner of his eyes. "Ferox," he chuckled, "is cold every time of year. That's kind of part of its thing." Okay, fair. Can we reel this back in?

"Right!" I declared, "We can talk about _shopping_ when we get to port and see what they have. Now, I'd like to talk _shop_ ," I finished, clapping my hands and furrowing my brow. Andrew had his mouth open and a finger raised. I leaned over, put a finger underneath his chin, and closed his mouth. "Because I have been _trying_ to talk shop for at least five minutes."

He worked his jaw for a moment, then nodded with a blush. "Sorry," Andrew supplicated, spreading his arms in a sort of shrug.

"Thank you, Andrew," I finally began, resting the weight of my chin on my finger, "For not interrupting. So you know a lot about the future. What can we leverage from that?"

The Voice mumbled something, but I couldn't quite catch it. Andrew closed his eyes, muttering under his breath for a moment before nodding. "Ylis- Archanea has a bizarre shortage of Dragonstones, or so the stories say."

That is not only random, it is incredibly specific. More importantly, though, why stock Dragonstones? "And there are _how_ many Manaketes over there?" I inquired, raising an eyebrow and crossing my arms, "Specialist items are nice and all, but selling to the Voice doesn't count as Specialist. It counts as a bad investment."

Looking upward, Andrew paused for a second before nodding. "Well, a Manakete ends up in the Shepherds, and they'll probably pay good money for high-quality supplies. Even if they grumble about it."

I heard some rustling from inside the cart, and then a mess of green hair popped out. "Pardon me," The Voice began, sounding muddled, "But did you say there was a Manakete with these... Shepherds?"

Andrew blinked, looking at the Voice oddly for a moment. "Huh," he muttered before raising his voice, "Yeah, Nowi. She's maybe a thousand years old?" I wonder what that was about?

"I have to wonder how missed that..." she mumbled, drooping slightly, "I see. I was hoping it was a name that I recognized."

Oh, don't do _that_. You almost look relatable. "While you're up," I interjected, gesturing towards the plains, "Why don't you check out the view?" Stop talking.

"I think I will," The Voice agrees mildly, eyes sparkling, "The view from the top of the Mila Tree is mostly just _more tree_." Good, she looks happier now. Can we get back to talking shop, please?

I think Andrew caught my expression, because he immediately dove into _talking shop_. "So maybe if we can pick up a few, we could leverage that. At the very worst, we can resell them in Ylisstol for a pretty good price."

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I let out a long, tired sigh. "I _guess_ ," I replied, less than enthusiastic, "Any crazier ideas up in that head of yours?"

"How crazy are we talking?" he mused, scratching his chin, "Because I have some very crazy ideas."

And that is very concerning. "Be reasonably crazy, Andrew," I cautioned him, "Or I'll have to start asking the Voice over here for economic advice."

He snorted at that, and the Voice covered a smirk. She seemed to want to say something, and Andrew quickly closed his mouth. Apologetically, she explained, "I think I would be useless for anything related to currency. I was never great at managing managing money, though part of that may be how the coins change every time I take a nap for a few years."

"That would do it," Andrew agreed as I wondered how long she usually slept for, "I already get confused if I sleep for like, an extra few hours."

Chuckling at that, I took a moment to stretch my back and pop a few knots. "Okay, really. Whatever ideas you have in that noggin of yours, now's the time."

"Well," he began instantly, which was cause for concern, "We could try fermenting tea with some additives to make beer to sell to the Feroxi, but that takes a lot of time. Um, we could market armor with actual pants to the Pegasus Knights? Because it seems armor and clothes makers are allergic to pants. There's still the plan to try and convince Chrom to wear a second pauldron-" With each idea, he would stick out another finger.

I put up my hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, that- that's a lot of ideas," I said, talking over him as I digested the wall of words, "Wait. Allergic to _pants_? Really?" I mean, that couldn't be true, right?

He gestured to the Voice, then added, "Think about it. Picture a Pegasus Knight in your mind." I did. And he was, unfortunately, correct.

"I am most certainly _not_ allergic to pantaloons or leggings of any kind," The Voice huffed, "I just like tall boots."

Gears turned in my head. There was, unfortunately, a kernel of profit in Andrew's insanity. "So," I started, dragging out the _o_ , "You might be right on that one. But I don't think we can actually leverage that. Unless..."

This sort of thing, I realized, could go on for _hours_.

And it did. We only stopped that endless circle of banter when we stopped for lunch- to bicker about soup instead.

(We won. Andrew made us soup again.)

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

In the three days to port, not much happened. No bandits, no soldiers from Walhart, nothing. Andrew called it ominously boring, and the Voice said it was serendipity. I called it obvious.

Walhart's men may not be here physically, but the presence of the Empire had focused all of the bandits towards rebellion. If the Empire wasn't so thorough in their research, I might have contemplated selling weapons to both sides. Actually, if I could make myself important enough, I would have sold to both sides anyways.

Andrew said that was ethically wrong. I told him ethics don't bother me if I don't look at them.

Now we can skip to the good part.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

Rolling into a port town is always a fantastic feeling. Salty air, crisp breezes, and swears in at least six different languages. Five, if you count Northern Valmese as a dialect instead of a language.

"What are they saying?" Andrew asked, shuffling in place as I got off the cart, "I'm getting bits and pieces, but..."

I took a moment to drink in the sounds. "Mostly insults to other people's mothers, sex, or poop," I concluded, "You're not missing much." Knowing a lot of languages has its perks, but sailors are not one of them.

"Port cities are... what is the term," The Voice said, pulling her (my) cloak around herself as she stepped off the back, "Melting pots. Seeing such a broad spread of humanity, all living together, reminds me of why Naga cares for your kind so."

Andrew snorted. "Oh, come on. You're just psyched to see this many people after living in a tree for however long."

The Voice put a hand to her mouth, failing to mask a light laugh. "Perhaps I am."

Based on previous experiences with those two- okay, with all three of us, fine-we'd stand here half a foot from horse manure for hours just trying to snipe back and forth. So I clapped my hands, startling both of them. "Alright, kids," I called with a grin, "It's time for a trip to the market."

"I'm taller and have a beard," Andrew said, aptly pointing to his beard, "Therefore I am the adult." Wait, how old is he again?

Politely coughing, the Voice gestured to herself. "If anything, I am the adult here." I didn't want to know how old she was, thank you.

Pinching my nose, I let out a long sigh. "I swear to N-" I coughed, stopping myself before I gave the Voice another opening. "You know what. Let's just go. You two unload the medicine crates and scare off any curious types while I go and negotiate with the port authority." I turned around and walked inside.

Just before the door swung closed, I caught the beginning of what would no doubt be an awful conversation. Andrew had cleared his throat, saying, "I've known her longer, so-"

So when Charles, my good friend in the port authority, asked me why I was smiling, I told him to shut up and get me my paperwork.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

The door swung open before me as I waved goodbye to Charles. He'd been a real sweetheart about getting my paperwork in order. I didn't like them, but the Empire's bureaucracy had done me a favor and managed to streamline the process. Bat a few eyelashes and I skipped right past declaring who the hell was outside with my _longtime friend, don't you remember him_? Green hair is so common down south- thank goodness she kept the hood up.

"...was guessing that last time around, there were no Risen, so we didn't get a chance to rescue you," Andrew grunted, setting the last of the crates down by the door. The Voice had seated herself atop a short tower of them, nodding sagely.

"To Valm, I am an icon of peace. As a hostage, I am certain, I was part of Walhart's delicate balancing act," she tilted her head, nodding to herself. "Ah, Anna. How did your negotiations go?" They weren't negotiations. It was a steamroll.

Maybe I wasn't securing the best price- that'd take a few more days that we didn't have. Flashing a smile, I put a finger to my chin. "Well, turns out a vessel bound for Plegia is understocked for what King Gangrel ordered, and my friend Charles needed to set _his_ friend up with some new stock."

"Healing supplies?" Andrew mused, stroking his beard, "Plegia would probably be gearing up for war by now, if they haven't started already."

Oh, right. Even better, actually. Ignoring the Voice's concerned expression, I nodded. "Yup. I could charge more, but the ship captains around here all drink at the same bars."

Wincing, Andrew gestured to the crates. "Fair. So where are these going?"

The Voice rubbed her arms. "While I am not averse to physical labor, I will admit I am not used to it. I pray we do not have to go far?" I guess Manaketes still need exercise, then. Huh.

I snapped my fingers. "Not far at all. You see, Captain Boris' shipment just arrived three days ago, and Charlie hasn't gotten around to registering it. Very busy man, you see," I explained with a smirk.

"Very busy," Andrew sagely agreed, squatting down.

"And we can just... drop off our supplies next to his, and Charlie will leave a large sack of gold on the desk that Boris left there," I finished, still smirking, "What a coincidence, right?"

"This seems legally questionable, but who am I to question the almighty bureaucracy?" The Voice lilted, hopping off of the crates, "Let us get on with it, then."

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

"You didn't count it," Andrew said pointedly as we strode out, rolling his shoulders, "Seems off to me."

It would seem weird, wouldn't it? He underestimated my love of money. "I know how much it should weigh," I grinned, hefting the sack of currency as I leapt onto the cart. Andrew got into place with far less grace, but he'd been improving.

"It could quite easily be pebbles, Anna," the Voice argued as she clambered up on the far side of Andrew, "Even I know that."

Oh, you _would_. I opened the bag, stuck a hand in, and enjoyed the jingle of coins. "No rocks, easy. I'd guess it's worth about two stone of salt?"

Andrew blinked, looking at me for a moment as gears visibly turned in his head. "How much is a stone?"

Not the question I was expecting. "A stone is, hmm," I frowned for a second, trying to get a good approximation. "Maybe five fist-sized lumps of gold. My fists, not yours," I added, catching his expression.

"Nineteen grams, ish," he muttered, grabbing my hand and curling it into a fist, "One point nine kilograms, let's say two..." What is he _doing_? As his fingers slackened, I yanked my hand back with a grumble, but he didn't even notice.

The Voice raised an eyebrow at me, tossing her hair over one shoulder. "Does he get like this frequently?"

"No, well," I sighed, shaking my hand. His grip was surprisingly strong when it wanted to be, apparently. "He zones out, but he doesn't get touchy. Usually."

She covered her mouth, chuckling. "Well, perhaps he has not had an opportunity?"

"That's stating the obvious," I retorted.

"Oh!" Andrew said suddenly, raising a finger. "A stone is about ten kilograms, and two stone is about twenty kilograms. They're about six kilos back home. Neat. That is a _lot_ of salt."

Not a huge amount. "And that justifies you grabbing my hand why?" I asked, raising my eyebrow, "Most people don't like being grabbed, you know."

He instantly went a deep red and looked away while the Voice laughed again. "Um, sorry about that. I like doing math. Did I squeeze too hard or something?"

"Clearly," I muttered, flexing my hand again, "No, you're fine. Just don't do it again." I've stabbed men for less. Much less, if you count throwing a dagger as stabbing someone.

"Good thing you didn't stab me, then," Andrew said dryly, his flush fading, "I like being alive and not full of holes."

Wait, did I say that out loud? "Nevermind," I shook my head. Raising my voice, "Now that we're done making fools out of ourselves-"

"That's a lie." Thank you, Andrew.

Coughing into my fist, I continued. "We need to get ourselves some better cold weather gear and secure a boat ride to Archanea." I took a breath, checking to make sure Andrew's mouth was still shut.

"The North of Archanea is a dangerous place," the Voice cautioned us, leaning forward and letting her long green hair dangle, "It is filled with rowdy, tribal barbarians."

"The rowdy barbarians decided to be rowdy together, actually," Andrew corrected, raising a finger, "They call themselves Regna Ferox now."

"Fascinating," The Voice said eagerly, "I am curious to see how that occured."

"So am I." Andrew stop throwing me off track.

I flicked him in the nose. "As I was _saying_ , we need to secure a boat to Archanea. Let's drop by one of the local bars, shall we?"

We rolled to a stop next to the _Drunk Marigold_ , a popular tavern for men and women of the sea. I could hear the distinct voices of several captains I'd met and sold to before- most of them liked me too, which is a bonus. I looked over at Andrew, wondering why he hadn't said anything.

Andrew worked his jaw for a moment. "Can I talk now?"

Letting out a long groan as the Voice chuckled again, I wondered why I was putting up with this.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

I came out of the tavern cursing in at least six different languages, heels grinding into stone as I leapt on the cart. "Come on, we're trying the _White Raven_ next."

"Was that Northern Valmese I heard?" The Voice mused, "What a fascinating dialect." It was a _language_ , thank you very much. Mostly swears, but it was a language.

"No luck?" Andrew asked sympathetically, "You look pissed off."

Good eye, Andrew. I _am_ pissed off. "Tark, the bleeding heart, has a full complement of refugees from Rosanne. Jacob's shipping off to Jugdral in search of, and I quote, adventure and large women-"

He put up both hands. "Whoah. Take a breath, Anna," he cautioned, "There's other fish... captains? Captains in the sea." Andrew smirked at that, because of course he did.

"No, that's not the problem. The _White Raven_ is where a lot of captains gather, but-" I let out a sigh. "They're mostly Plegian or bound for Plegia."

Andrew visibly deflated. "Oh, that's not good," he muttered as the Voice straightened, "I have no idea when the war starts."

"It shouldn't be that bad," I'm trying to stay positive here, "We can head straight up through Plegia into Regna Ferox, and wait for it all to blow over."

His hands twitched and his shoulders shifted. "Right, right," he took a moment to breathe before chuckling. "Now I'm the one that's worried. Sorry."

"I am certain it will all be fine," the Voice assured, "We are but travellers, after all." Travellers, yes. We are not normal travellers. You are a dragon.

"Hey, do you see that?" Wait, what? Guess we're doing this song and dance again.

I followed Andrew's finger, shading my eyes. "That is a Wyvern," I confirmed, "They don't usually come this far from the Valley." And they'd landed without incident at the far end of town, too.

"Not without a rider, I'd bet," Andrew suggested, "Maybe it's Cherche?" As in, the vassal-knight of Rosanne? Former vassal, given Rosanne had fallen and Duke Virion had fled the country, but still.

"That's absurd, even-" _Oh_. The refugees. It all made sense now. I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Actually that makes a lot of sense."

"Does Cherche have pink hair?" The Voice queried, her expression difficult to read in the shadow of the hood.

Andrew, I swear to Naga. If you're right about this... "She does, yes," I confirmed, "And she's locally famous down south for her frugality and skills as a Wyvern Rider." Not as bad as Sir Frederick, but she had shut down many a con of mine.

"I guess she's here to keep an eye on the refugees?" Andrew frowned, scratching his beard, "I don't know much about what happens in Valm before the invasion."

"Invasion, pardon?" The Voice said, shocked, "You did not mention an invasion."

He waved a hand. "I'll explain in a bit. For now, how about we go and secure passage to Plegia?"

"I thought you'd suggest going over to her," because she's important to this future he believed in, of course, "What with the time stuff and all."

With a frown, he glanced at the wyvern again. "I don't see why I should."

Before the conversation could peter out completely, we rolled to a stop in front of the _White Raven_. "You two entertain yourselves, I'll get us a ship out of here."

Andrew was still looking at the wyvern. "Gotcha."

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

The tavern smelt of spiced Plegian meads and was a whirlwind of bad decisions. Or more accurately, the men inside smelt of it. They leered at me as I sauntered in, sending my hand to my belt- they wouldn't dare make a move, not with Captain Tark portside. A sheer wall of sound washed over me a heartbeat later, clinking glasses and shouted laughter over a dull murmur of drunken banter.

I'd rather not stick around a place like this. Scanning the bar, I spotted the men I was looking for: five swarthy captains, all dressed in eccentric outfits befitting of their trade. One even wore a big, furred hat with equally large ear-flaps. Sidling up next to them at the bar, I wrinkled my nose at the thick smell of strong mead. The medicinal expert in me wondered if they'd just been drinking antiseptic.

Only one of them spotted me- the man in the large hat, Captain Boris. His face was pinched but thickly set, with a large and bright red nose. "Ah!" he shouted in a dense northern accent, clapping his hands, "Merchant Anna! How does the gold flow for you?"

Pretty decently, despite inconveniences. "I just got a sizeable lump sum in exchange for an equally sizeable stock of medical supplies. You're all set, Boris."

"Good, good!" He laughed, downing an entire tankard of a clear liquid, getting up and settling down on the opposite side of me. "But you do not come to me for that, da? Annas do not come to me for drink or small talk."

I nodded in appreciation, noting that he'd sat in line of sight of two particularly leery men. "A man after my own heart, Boris," I said with a mostly genuine smile, "It seems that I'm in need of transport for three people and a large volume of tea."

Boris laughed again, fishing in his pocket before slamming a large gold coin onto the bar. "Barkeep! Am going now- this is to pay tab." Turning to me, his bright blue eyes glinted. "Is easy! I have much space in first deck- Consider it favor from Boris." He stuck out a huge, meaty hand.

Hesitantly, I shook it. I winced as his hand crushed mine- the same one that Andrew had grabbed, no less-but I maintained my smile. "It's a deal. Let's get out of here."

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

So we trooped out of the bar, my entire body relaxing as the cool ocean breeze washed over me. That had gone over fantastically- Boris wasn't a close friend, but he was a man of honor and a deceptively cunning businessman. He never let a debt be unpaid, and while his payment for the medicinal supplies was decent, we both knew it was below market value.

"Anna!" Andrew shouted cheerfully, drawing my attention to him, "I changed my mind. Cherche, meet Anna. She's a good friend of mine."

He was standing next to a tall woman with soft features and an even softer smile. These things were in sharp contrast to the heavy grey plates adorning her body, her posture sharp and regimented. She inclined her head, long pinkish moving in a ripple. "It's lovely to see you again, Anna! How have you been?"

Watching the Voice laugh from the cart, I started to simmer. I swear to _Naga_ , Andrew, if you've roped yourself into something crazy again, I'm going to lose it.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}


	6. Talk Shop(ping)

[][Andrew][]

Now that I'd gone and done it, I was not sure how good an idea introducing Cherche to Anna was. Her shoulders were squared, hands clenched.

And a large man in an ushanka- one of those Russian fur hats-let out a booming laugh from behind her. Crossing two huge arms across the rather nice white coat he had, he surveyed us with bright blue eyes. "Ha! New friends, Anna? I thought you solitary!" Holy crap he's Russian.

Cherche laughed daintily, nodding to the man. "I did too, actually. I have never seen her with a partner that lasted more than a month." Double entendre, heh. And we'd only been travelling for a week, so we'll see about that.

Still chuckling, the man sidled around an increasingly flushed Anna and stuck out a hand to Cherche. "Am Captain Boris. Any friend of Anna's is friend of mine."

"A pleasure to meet you, Captain. You may call me Cherche," she said, looking down at the man and meeting his grip. Her accent was crisp, clear, and obviously French. Because of course France is on the same continent as fantasy Japan.

" _Business partners_ ," Anna hissed, "Friends is pushing it."

Boris. His name is Boris. With Europe and Asia already represented, I suppose that shouldn't have been a shock that Russia was here too. When Boris' hand came around, his grip was best compared to a friendly trash compactor. "Hey, I'm Andrew. The woman behind me is-" I turned around to look, and Tiki had fallen asleep on the seat. "Well, she's asleep, so she can introduce herself later." I made eye contact with Anna- we didn't have a cover name for Tiki yet. She seemed to get the gist, though her glare promised stabbings. I assumed she was being overdramatic.

"Is good to meet you! Will have plenty of time to get to know each other on boat," Boris said cheerfully before turning to Anna. "We leave tomorrow, da? I will go, wake crew from rum and ditches they sleep in last night."

Anna glanced up at the Sun, probably trying to confirm that Boris' crew was still asleep past noon. They were, apparently.

Like a storm, Boris the Ship Captain passed with a rumble and left a strange silence behind him. "Well," I said, broaching the silence with a wince, "That was interesting."

Cherche smiled lightly, shrugging. "I have found that all sorts of interesting people live out here, on the fringes of the continent."

Anna clapped her hands, straightening. "Right, interesting people! So, as Boris said there, we're shipping out with him to Plegia. Tomorrow. I'm sure we all have work to do-"

"Why don't you catch up with Cherche?" I suggested, knowing very well what I was doing, "She's an old friend, after all, and excellent company."

The Wyvern Rider shook her head. "Unfortunately, I have duties I must attend to. Come back later, perhaps? There is a message I would like you to pass on to the Duke. Until then, though!" She waved, turning on her heel and walking away.

"At risk of repeating myself, that was interesting," I mused, "Sorry about that. I just wanted to say hello."

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Anna took a long, deep breath. "I'm thinking Fae might be a good cover name, but we both know she won't use it."

Tiki would probably chafe at it, and we weren't going to be here long anyways. "Maybe she can cheer up refugees or something," I suggested, "I seriously doubt that news of her vanishing has gotten here yet."

Nodding, Anna looked at Tiki, who was using the entire bench as a very uncomfortable bed. "...Can you move her to the back?"

"I've carried her before," I commented, "Do you think this counts as some sort of blasphemy?"

"If it does, she's the Voice and can absolve you of it," Anna assured me, raising a hand, "Yes, I was thinking about ways to charge for it. Yes, I know it's a bad idea."

"She can literally eat you, Anna. You fit inside her dragon mouth," I pointed out, trying to get my arms under her.

"This is why I decided not to try and sell it, Andrew. I'm irreverent, not stupid."

[][][][][][][][]

"I'll go no lower, Anna. I know your clan's tricks," the robed man warned, "If you want to buy bulk, you buy at my prices."

Anna looked around at the weird warehouse-market mixture going on, crossing her arms in mock frustration. I'd tuned out about a half hour ago, based on where they'd haggled the price to. "I don't see many buyers, you know. I'm offering to take it all off your hands- the green teas, the black teas, and... what other colors of tea are there, Andrew?"

Startled, I tried to pull up the answer mentally. I think it speaks to my mental state that I nearly told her to google it. "Uh, Green, Black, Red, White... that's about it. Red tea isn't really made of tea leaves, and I have no idea what White tea is."

"In that case I'll go with green and black teas, then," Anna muttered, "But I won't pay those prices. I saw that for half the price down in Rosanne-"

I let out a long sigh. It'd be a while. Unless- huh, I had an idea."Hey, Anna," I called out, pointing at the crates, "Didn't you say that Walhart would be implementing a tea tax?"

Anna and the merchant's gazes snapped to me, and I took the time to stand up and square my shoulders. Walking over to the pair- easily ten centimeters taller than the merchant, "Looks to me like she's offering you great prices, considering how heavy-handed Walhart is," I said casually, examining my fingers, "How about we be more reasonable?"

Steepling his fingers, the merchant let out a sigh nearly as long as mine. "You drive a hard bargain, Anna. I will... lower my expectations."

Did I do it? Am I free of this hell? Anna shook her head. "To what, 110% market value from 200%? Work with me here."

And then it began again. I waltzed away, wondering if jumping into the ocean and swimming to Plegia would be faster at this point.

[][][][][][][][]

When things get moving, I don't really get a chance to appreciate my surroundings. Crisp briney air filled my lungs, harsh light glinting off cresting waves; in the distance, the rolling sea and chattering gulls. The ocean had always held a special place in my heart- I'd been born by it, and no matter how far I went, it always called me back home. Even if, I remembered with a pang, this was as close as I would get.

"You appear to be lost, Andrew."

I started, inhaling sharply but not jumping. This happened often enough that I shouldn't be reacting at all. "H-hey, Tiki. What's up?" I said casually, watching her join me on the back of the cart.

Looking at me with quizzical green eyes, she replied, "Never mind that. If I may ask, how goes the preparations?"

Easy enough. I gestured outward, pointing vaguely towards the bright crop of red hair that signified Anna- not far away, but hidden slightly behind a row of crates. "Negotiating prices on tea, actually."

Tiki tilted her head, brushing a tuft of green hair out of her eyes as she did so. "Tea is enjoyable from time to time. I did not see either of you as being regular drinkers of it."

I do like green teas. "A cup of herbal green tea is pretty great, honestly. I just don't think about making it, so I don't end up drinking it." I coughed, frowning slightly. "Oh, yeah. We're only getting so much tea because it'll sell for a lot more over in Arkanee- Archana?" I swear, every time I think I have that one nailed down...

"Archanea," Tiki confirmed with a nod, straightening and rubbing one of her shoulders, "That's quite clever of you, if morally questionable."

Oh, so she caught the details. "I mean, we can't exactly stop Walhart from imposing the regulations, and at least my knowledge is being put to use," I explained with a shrug, "Money is pretty useful, too. It makes Anna really happy, I think."

I'd like to say I am good at reading people, but Tiki is just a brick wall sometimes. Her expression was some mix of amusement and confusion, quickly resolving into a smirk. "That is good, then. Should you not be over there, helping her?"

Shrugging, I shook my head. "Nah. She's in her element and I don't want to throw her off track. I'll help with the labor, though."

Rubbing her arms, Tiki's smirk widened. "The strength of a dragon is highly overblown if I am this sore already. I will instead supervise your work."

There was such a contrast between her way of speaking and the impish gleam in her eyes that it could give a man whiplash. At least, if they weren't expecting it. I chuckled. "To be watched over by a dragon of your stature? How kind of you!"

Sharing my laugh, Tiki let out a contented sigh and kicked her legs. "Being free of the Mila Tree, and therefore of my duties, is much nicer than I had expected."

Gulls cawed in the distance as we watched the rippling waves, the murmur of Anna's voice a strange undercurrent to it all. Tiki looked out over the sea, green eyes shining- "You're in the stories. From back home, that is," I took a long breath as she turned to look at me. "They don't talk much about you, but you were still in the Mila Tree when the Shepherds came over to Valm."

Tilting her head, Tiki hummed. "Fascinating. So we are already diverging from the original timeline?"

Pretty hugely, all things considered. She's an icon to the Valmese people. "Hopefully in a good way," I agreed, "Because I can't imagine how bored you'd be up there. You do join the Shepherds after your ritual, too."

"The ritual, I see," frowning, Tiki looked at Anna's head, which was just visible over a stack of crates. "So I saw fit to commit fully? Grima is a tremendous threat indeed."

Huh? And obviously Grima's a threat. "What do you mean?"

"Do your stories speak of my history, Andrew?" Tiki asked, straightening subtly.

"Yeah. I didn't pl- well," I coughed, "I didn't ever do a lot of research into it myself, but I know that Naga sealed away a lot of your power."

Twitching, Tiki nodded. "Correct. The ritual to unseal a portion of my power requires a huge amount of energy, and sealing it again makes me want to nap for a century or two."

I winced. "That seems like a long time. Any particular reason you'd reseal it?"

Tiki turned to look at me, eyebrow raised. "Haven't I already explained degeneration to you, Andrew?"

Oh yeah, that. "Seems sensible," I admitted, "Though it does mean you don't get to be a kickass dragon that breathes... fire? or whatever."

Shrugging, Tiki jumped off the cart. "That would not be entirely correct, though I think calling it fire is close enough."

"Wait, where are we going?" I wondered, jumping off as well, "To Cherche?"

"No, I don't think so," Tiki said, looking over her shoulder, "It appears Anna is done debating, if the sound of money changing hands is any indication."

"Oh, nice catch!" I picked up my pace to catch up to Tiki, "So you're coming to supervise the manual labor?"

"As promised," she said sagely, "And I am a dragon of my word."

My back started feeling sore just looking at those crates.

[][][][][][][][]

I flopped onto the deck of the ship with a groan, trying to shut out Boris' booming laugh. "I'm not used to this, don't judge me," I grumbled, trying to let my aching muscles relax.

"Was only a little bit of work, friend!" A shadow blotted out the sun, resolving itself quickly into the huge man. One hand extended towards me. "Even Anna is fine after that."

I took his hand, wincing as he yanked me to a standing position. Anna was leaning on a throne of tea crates, finger to her chin as she smirked. Tiki sat on one of the armrests, kicking her legs again. "She's way stronger than I am, you know," I said pointedly, looking away as Anna wiped some sweat off her face, "I'm just an actor."

"You know it," Anna grinned, moving off her seat in one fluid step, "Thanks for helping out, Boris. I don't want to owe you."

Boris chuckled again, crossing his huge arms. "Is no trouble. From looks of thing, you will bring much entertainment, eh?"

Rolling my neck, I dusted myself off. "I'm certain," I replied bemusedly, trawling through my mind, "Oh, Anna. Cherche wanted us to come back later. How about I do that now?" Despite my sore muscles, I felt quite restless.

She bit her lip, sauntering over to me and inspecting me with a critical eye. "Sure. Maybe you should pick up some extra clothes for yourself while you're out there."

That would be fantastic, but given my funding was exactly zero, "Sounds good! But I don't have money."

Boris raised a thick black eyebrow. "Hm? So is Anna who wears pants here?"

I flushed and shook my head. "Well, she's definitely better at managing money than I am."

Anna shrugged. "He's not wrong."

Tiki dropped from her seat gently, joining us. "Might I accompany you, Andrew? I would like to speak with the refugees, at the very least, and I am in great need of spare clothing."

"Sure, why not?" I agreed, "But the money thing is still important. Anna-"

Letting out a long sigh, Anna pinched the bridge of her nose and tapped her foot. "On one hand, I don't feel like going out into the town again. On the other, if I give you two money, you will either donate it randomly or get conned out of it."

I raised a finger to argue, looked at Tiki, and then lowered it. "Fair point."

[][][][][][][][]

In the end, Anna came with us. I'll spare you the details, but it turns out that clothing stores aren't a hugely common thing in this world. Probably because there wasn't a huge demand for them. We picked up tunics and pants from a merchant, but were left with the fact that they didn't fit fantastically well. Mine didn't, at least.

"Hm," I mused, scratching my chin, "I know my own measurements well enough to make clothes for myself, and bolts of cloth are usually cheaper."

"Really?" Anna replied, increasing her pace to match with mine, "I'd make my own, but..." she smirked, gesturing at her rather ostentatious red-and-yellow outfit, "I'm not _that_ good."

Tiki chuckled, covering her mouth. "You learn some things when you get to be my age. If we can acquire good fabric, good thread, and some needles, I could assist you both."

Looking vaguely uncomfortable, Anna glanced at Tiki. "I... might take you up on that. We'll call it a debt repaid for picking you up."

"Implying we didn't do it out of the goodness of our hearts?" I said, smirking, "Well, I did it out of the goodness of _my_ heart, but Anna's heart only has space for money and soup."

Tilting her head, Tiki's eyes gleamed. "How kind of you, to give her a heart to begin with."

With a huff, Anna crossed her arms. "Sometimes..." she muttered, "You two can go meet with Cherche or whatever. I'll go buy some fabric and meet you on the ship."

Watching Anna speed away, I frowned. "Looks like that actually stung, Tiki."

"I have no regrets," Tiki replied with a shrug, "You've seen how she looks at me."

No, I hadn't. "Huh?"

Raising an eyebrow, Tiki stepped in front of me and put her hands on her hips. "Andrew, you're not oblivious. She _tolerates_ me."

Oh, yeah. Something in my chest ached as we stopped, taking a long breath. "Sorry about that, Tiki. She'll warm to you."

"I certainly hope so. Unless boats have somehow improved in the last two hundred years, we will be in close quarters with her for at least a month," Tiki mused, her cloak swirling around her as she spun, "But that is a problem for another time. Let us go onward!"

[][][][][][][][]

Rounding the corner towards where I'd seen Cherche walk off too, I slammed straight into a wall of... something. My hands went up, touching a bumpy surface with a smooth texture. Backing off, I rubbed my aching nose and then fell flat on my butt when I realised just what I'd run into. Heart skipping a few beats, I sighed. "Christ."

Tiki, predictably, chuckled. "It's just a wyvern, Andrew, no need to be surprised. I'm sure you caught how large I was before I crashed."

The answer, by the way, is very large. Maybe about the size of a colonial house. Rubbing my back, I staggered to my feet. "Big, yeah. Look, I didn't get to see you very-" My nose brushed something wet and I fell back again. "Ah!"

Looking up slowly, I made contact with two slowly blinking draconic eyes. Shortly after, I had to close my own as a large, wet, and pink _tongue_ went up my face. Tiki laughed, saying something I didn't quite catch as I pulled myself up and out of the way of the licking. "It seems that she likes you, Andrew."

My retort died in my throat as Cherche approached, her bright pink hair flashing against the backdrop of her wyvern's scales. Minerva, right? I barely had to look down to make eye contact with Cherche, which I suppose meant she was really tall. "Oh, hey Cherche," I said, wiping wyvern slobber off my face, "Fancy seeing you here."

Minerva was a beautiful looking specimen, at least based on my limited knowledge. Her large yellow eyes regarded me with a baleful but neutral intellect as Cherche ran a hand along the wyvern's chin. Cherche smiled thinly at me. "Well, Minerva's already taken a liking to you. Don't tell Anna, she might get jealous."

Doubtful. I shrugged, looking at the satchel on Cherche's hip- and a neatly folded letter sticking out. "I'm sure she would... getting to the point, you said there was a message you wanted me to pass along?"

Her expression soured, Minerva starting to hum as the scratches continued. "Of course. My liege needs to be informed of the situation, and who better to trust than the Voice of Naga and her companions?"

Tiki snapped to attention, crow's feet forming around her eyes as she frowned. "Please, call me Tiki."

I got the feeling I'd caused several boundaries to be crossed right there, and I put up my hands. "Hey, how about I take the letter and we just do something... less serious? That sounds good with me. What do you think?"

Minerva, conveniently, nodded. Delicately, she nipped the letter out of Cherche's bag and handed it to me. "Thanks, Minerva." I scratched her on the chin, getting a hum in response.

Cherche chuckled. "Well, if Minerva insists. Come, let us drink tea."

[][][][][][][][]

Cherche led us to a largeish tent surrounded by twenty or so smaller tents- all empty. They'd started moving things onto the ship bound for Ferox. Minerva curled up outside as we went in, and we were treated to some rather excellent tea.

"...and that's how we ran into Tiki," I summarized, taking a light sip of the tea. It was a warm, tangy herbal mix that soothed my still aching muscles. "I'm getting some lemongrass vibes from this. Am I right on that?"

Tiki, legs folded neatly as she sipped tea, nodded. "Spearmint and lemongrass, I would guess."

Cherche smiled, setting her steaming cup down in a tiny tray. "A green tea with lemongrass and a hint of spearmint, good catch. I'm glad you managed to get Lady Tiki away from there, even if it was by accident. Without her as a hostage, the rebellions will move along smoothly."

"Smooth may not be the word for it," I muttered, "You're implying the rebels will cooperate with each other."

"I wish it weren't so," Tiki reflected, frowning, "But I fear it will be." Her expression made her seem so much older- the gleam in her eyes implacably ancient yet shining with youth.

"You coul-" I started, stopping as Cherche also started to speak. She looked at me apologetically, but continued.

"There's not much to be done about that, but maybe you could spend time with the refugees? It would lift their spirits to see the Voice," she supplied, "Sorry, Andrew. What were you saying?"

I shrugged dramatically before taking another sip. "Same thing as you, but probably in worse words."

"I don't know, Andrew," Tiki mused, taking another long sip, "Ahh. You're well spoken."

"What do you think?" Cherche asked, tossing a few loose strands of long pink hair over one shoulder. If I hadn't already seen Tiki's hair, I'd be beyond impressed with how well-kept it was. Generally, though, all the known characters from the game I'd seen looked fantastic.

Regarding her tea for a moment, Tiki nodded. "That's a good idea- one moment."

Hm. What's this about? Tiki brought her tea up to her mouth, obscuring it entirely for a second as she closed her eyes. Then, she brought it down again- now visibly steaming. "There we go. Your tea was of a reasonable temperature for humans, but I think this makes it more suitable for me."

I blinked, sharing a confused glance with Cherche. "Wait, Tiki. Can you breathe... fire stuff, or whatever it is, all the time?" I could've sworn she said she couldn't. Wait, no, she never really answered my question earlier, did she?

Tiki huffed, a little flicker of whitish flame spewing from between her lips. I caught a glance of her canine teeth, which looked a lot sharper than usual for a human. This, for obvious reasons, made sense. "Of course I can. I'm a _dragon_ , Andrew."

Holy _shit_ that is awesome. Cherche raised an eyebrow. "I'm glad it's not my tea at fault. Lord Virion would be most upset if my brewing was not up to snuff."

"Tiki, that's just straight up awesome. How come we haven't seen that before?" Did she even need Tomes, honestly?

Shrugging, Tiki took a sip of her tea. "Didn't feel like it. Just because I can do something doesn't mean I will do it every time. Also, you never serve me tea." That's a fair argument.

"You're a lot more down to earth than I expected, V- Lady Tiki," Cherche admitted, taking another sip, "I appreciate it. I was never one for high-and-mighty types."

I snorted, coughing as hot tea went down my throat awkwardly. Tiki leaned over to pat me on the back as Cherche smiled. Once it had calmed down, I said, "S-sorry. I just thought that was funny, what with Virion-"

Rolling her eyes, Cherche placed her hands on her lap. "He's better when you get to know him. Quite the charmer, actually." I ship it so hard.

We heard a snarl from outside, Cherche blushing and Tiki smirking in response as I winced. "That was Minerva, right? Is there trouble?"

Tiki shook her head. "She's just making a comment about Cherche here, Andrew. Nothing to worry about."

With Cherche's face being nearly as flushed as her hair, I had the right to worry. "You can speak Wyvern?" I asked, trying to dig through my memory.

"I'm impressed!" Cherche said, trying to cool off and hide her face behind her tea, "Very few can understand Minervykins." _Minervykins_. That's adorable, if terrifying given the context.

Winking, Tiki's eyes shone, pupils becoming slit for a heartbeat. She shifted from sitting on her legs to going cross-legged, hands resting on her calves. "Wyvernstones did exist, you know. I think I could still turn into one, actually."

"Really?" Cherche leaned forward, flush vanishing, "You mean Manaketes can take on different forms?" That was my question too, but now I don't get to find out what Minerva said. Probably something lewd.

"On occasion," Tiki started, tilting her head, "We need the proper Stone to guide it, and we naturally prefer our original forms. The form of a Wyvern is not one I've taken in many years, but it was very useful back in Marth's time."

"What, did he ride you into battle?" I asked with a smirk, watching Tiki go a little red before regaining control of herself.

She raised a single, delicate eyebrow, taking a long sip of her tea as Cherche began to sputter. "Yes."

I raised a finger, looking at the increasingly stunned Cherche as I did. "You know what," I started, "I don't think Mar-Mar would do that, even if you asked him nicely."

"Mar-Mar," Tiki grumbled, "Of course you'd know that. Of all the things you could know about my history and you know _that._ Fine," she continued, speaking up, "Cherche, why don't you show us to the refugees? I'm sure I could boost their moods a bit."

Cherche stood up rapidly, nodding as her composure returned. "Absolutely, Lady Tiki. They're-"

Raising my hand, I asked, "Can I finish my tea first?"

Letting out a long sigh and a short laugh, Cherche sat down again. "Of course, Andrew. It was rude of me to start moving before either of my guests were finished. Though, if I might beg of you," she said politely, "Could rejoin Anna rather than follow us? You are a stranger, after all."

I looked to Tiki as something tightened in my chest, and she shrugged apologetically. "Sure," I replied with forced cheer, "That's perfectly reasonable."

[][][][][][][][]

Rather than stick with Cherche and Tiki, I decided to amble my way back to the boat. Nothing particularly eventful happened until I got there and spotted Anna. She looked kind of down, staring at a sack of coins.

"Hey, Anna!" I called, watching her jump nearly a foot into the air.

Blowing a curl of hair out of her face, she furrowed her brow and grumbled at me. "I swear, Andrew, one of these days I'm not going to recognize your voice and you'll end up dead."

The bottom failed to drop out of my stomach as I took a seat next to her, chuckling. "Nah. You're stuck with me."

"Unfortunately," Anna mumbled, staring at the sack again. She said something else, too soft for me to hear.

"What?" I asked, because I genuinely hadn't caught what she said, "Can you repeat that?"

"I _said_ ," Anna replied loudly, making my wince, "I sold the cart."

Oh, understandable. "Did you keep the canvas and such?" I paused for a second, catching her expression. "Oh, uh. Anna, I'm sorry. You were attached to it, weren't you?"

Anna looked at me for a moment, then looked away. "Kinda."

Tentatively, I stretched a hand out to pat her on the back. She twitched as I did, but didn't move away. "I think I understand, Anna."

Before she got too twitchy, I pulled my hand back. She sighed. "Thanks, I guess."

We sat in silence for a little while, because I wasn't sure what to say anymore.

[][][][][][][][]

We shipped off the next day in the early hours of the morning, with Tiki sleeping through the whole process as Anna and I did our best to stay out of the way. Anna chose to stay belowdecks, messing around with a needle and thread.

I, however, couldn't resist the call of the sea. My morning was spent at stern, listening to the singing of rowdy crew and watching the ocean roll by. Above it all, Boris' voice commanded everyone's attention, directing the chaotic flow of morning movement effortlessly. As things calmed down and he took the helm, I approached him.

"Captain Boris," I called, doing my best to sound polite, "How are you today?"

He looked over his shoulder for a moment. "Ha! Am good today. Beautiful day for sailing. Wind is strong, sky is blue and ocean is sleepy. You?"

Sleepy, huh? I looked over the side at the sapphire waves, regarding how steady I felt. "Sleepy. That's a good way to put it," I agreed, looking back at Boris, "My day's been pretty good, all things considered. The beds were pretty damn comfortable, which was great for my back." Silently, I cursed. Anna still hadn't shown me the stretches.

"Should ask Anna for help. She knows many stretches that might help- will not show me them, though," Boris chuckled, "Perhaps she wants me to pay her?"

Guess I wasn't the only one. "You too?" I confirmed, "Well, I asked her about them and she asked if that was what I really wanted. Pretty weird if you ask me."

Boris looked at me with a twinkle in his eyes. "You are strange man, Andrew."

I'm not sure what to make of that. "What? I just want to not have back aches all the time. What's wrong with that?"

He laughed and shook his head. "Is nothing. Now, Boris must pay attention to crew. Go belowdecks, with Anna and green-haired friend."

It was friendly, but it had all the force of an order. I made my way down with due haste.

[][][][][][][][]

Anna and my green-haired friend were awake now, Tiki standing ramrod straight as Anna used a string to measure her. Tiki waved bemusedly as I stepped in. "Andrew, just in time!"

"Hold still," Anna hissed, "You're the one that wants these measurements, after all."

Tiki shook her head. "My form and figure have not changed in several centuries. You seemed determined to take them, though, so who am I to argue?"

Huffing, Anna sat back on her bed, tossing her hair over one shoulder. She looked nice with her hair down, even if she was visibly irritated. "Hmph."

With a laugh, Tiki walked over to the crate filled with rolled fabrics. "Andrew?"

Snapping my eyes to Tiki, I nodded. "Yeah?"

"Should I stick with red? We're all wearing it, after all, and if you have a color scheme doing I'd hate to change it," Tiki knelt down, inspecting the fabrics with a thoughtful frown.

I looked down at my red outfit, then to Anna, who had clearly been doing the same. "I guess we do have a thing going. Red?" I asked Anna, smirking.

"Red," Anna confirmed, "It's the best color there is."

Oh, hell no. "Excuse me, no. Red's one of the best, but purple is _leagues_ better."

"I prefer green, myself," Tiki interjected, "Quite pleasant to look at."

"That's just because you have green hair," Anna said pointedly, "And red's got such a strong emotional feel to it. Passionate."

No, no. " _Purple_ is the color of passion, Anna. _Red_ is the color of anger."

Anna batted her eyes at me, putting a hand to her heart as she recrossed her legs. "So you're a romantic, Andrew? I didn't think you had it in you."

Er. Um. Recollecting myself, I flashed a winning smile and tried to put on my best french accent. "Why yes, Milady Anna," I purred with a flourishing bow, "Of course I am." Was that a little much?

Not even flinching, Anna grinned. She stood up, sauntered over to me, and flicked me on the nose. "Doofus."

Tiki, being herself, practically cackled at the interaction. "Andrew, you would make a good thespian. Oh, wait-"

"I am," I agreed with a grin, rubbing my nose. An actor and a doofus, that is.

Clapping her hands together, Anna coughed. "Alright! We have about a month to make clothes for ourselves, and I'm going to need one of you to help me. Consider it more payback for providing supplies and lodging for you two."

"I'd help," I started, "But I'm not, uh, a woman. I don't know much about women's clothes, at least not in the styles of this world."

Tiki tilted her head. "That's a valid concern, and I do not know how comfortable Anna would be with a man working on her."

Please don't say it like that. Anna laughed, putting a finger to her chin. "Instead, I get the Voice to work on me? I'm not complaining." Her expression said otherwise.

I walked over to the bin, grabbed a roll of red fabric and another of brown, and sighed. "I'll get out of your way, then," I began, kneeling down to nab a spool of thread and a big needle, "But I might need one of you two to help me at some point."

Anna nodded, raising an eyebrow. "So you're fine with a woman 'working on you'?"

"I'm just going to go, thanks," I chuckled, hurrying out of the room.

[][][][][][][][]

Lunch was a simple affair of hardtack with a slice of orange on the side. To prevent scurvy, Boris had claimed, waving around a Preservation Staff. Because of course Boris the Russian Ship Captain was a mage.

We sat near the stern of the ship on a long bench, with me sitting at the end with several men of the sea lining up. Anna and Tiki were still working on clothing stuff, and I didn't want to risk a possibly lethal invasion of privacy, so here I was. A tall bottle of a clear liquid passed down the line. I took a long sniff, determined it was thoroughly alcoholic, and passed it back. One of the men grumbled in a language I didn't understand, but his body language said enough. "Sorry, guys," I said with an apologetic shrug, "I don't drink."

Boris laughed from his spot at the helm. "Man that lives with Anna does not drink? Andrew is strange, I tell you!"

His men laughed- not just the men on the bench, but the handful bustling about shifting the sails and retying various ropes. I laughed with them, because it wasn't the first time I'd been called strange for that reason. "Trust me. Under that rough exterior, she's fun to be around. Just don't get on her bad side." Even just prodding at her darker moods had made me feel deeply uncomfortable, and the way she handled daggers made me quite nervous.

"So how did you get to know Anna, eh? And pick up Voice, too?" Boris asked, making me jump.

Rapidly collecting myself and pulling out my inner thespian, I chuckled. "Nice catch, Boris! But..." I said, standing up with a flourish of my cape and putting a finger to my lips, "We can't tell anyone, got it? She happens to like being treated as a normal person."

One of the sailors stood up, squaring his shoulders and giving me a light but somehow exaggerated salute. "We wouldn' dare think a doin something ta the Voice, would we lads?"

With a wide smirk, I turned to him and stuck out a hand over a chorus of agreements. I think I would enjoy working with this crew, or at least they'd be entertaining. He took it and we shook, bright brown eyes twinkling from a seaworn face. As he stepped away again, I rolled my shoulders and took a breath. "Well then, with an agreement like that, I suppose I can indulge you in the basics-"

One, though, the man from before, spoke up. "Lad, ye don't need to tell yer story like that. Jus' get on with it."

My mood plummeted with my stomach, the wind from my sails vanishing in a heartbeat. "Oh," I muttered, firmly inspecting the wooden planks, "Alright then. Well!" I started with a clap, forcing a smile onto my face, "So we met these beasts called Risen near the Mila Tree. They're more dead than alive, I think- not very pleasant..."

[][][][][][][][]

As daylight faded, giving way to the glint of silver on cresting waves, the Moon found me looking out over the darkened sea. It was calming, hearing the ocean break across the hull, watching stars drift across the navy sky. The rhythmic groaning of wood and the humming of wind accompanied it all, but none of it helped the tightness in my chest.

If anything, watching the stars made it worse. I'd never been the best at naming constellations, or tracking my movements using the night sky. My dad had tried to teach me, but the lessons never really stuck the way he wanted. They reminded me of home, and of things I hadn't gotten to do- my heart ached, bleeding a burning dullness into my stomach. I took calming breaths, long and shuddering, but they only stopped it for a moment.

The patterns of the night shifted, the humming of the faraway helmsman undercut by rhythmic, growing groaning of wood. Perhaps it was a night watchman doing the rounds. But the sound grew and grew, its owner right behind me-

"There you are," Anna said softly, "Doing your nighttime thing, huh?"

I let out a long sigh, wincing as it wavered. A splotch of dulled red joined me at the railing of the ship, hair tied up in the usual ponytail. Her clothes were rumpled and unkempt, but her belt was still on precisely the way it always was. "I guess, yeah," I replied, voice barely carrying over the soft waves.

"So, um," Anna started, hesitating, "How'd... your day go?"

I blinked owlishly, stuffing my surprise back down. "Oh, thanks for the... interest, yeah. After I left you two to your thing-" I coughed, flushing, "You know, making clothes or preparing to do so?"

"Mhm," she nodded, looking out over the waves, "Go on."

"Yeah. I talked with Boris and his crew. Really- really friendly bunch, they figured out who Tiki was, promised not to cause us trouble," I blurted, words just rolling out of my mouth without much control. "Told them how we met her, with some editing, and, uh. They liked it." They liked the story, once I'd pulled my own personality out of it. Boris didn't seem to mind, at least.

Anna put a finger to her chin. "Uh-huh. Thanks for saving us the trouble, they were going to snoop if someone didn't say something."

"And, yeah. Thanks again. How'd your day go, Anna?" The aching in my chest hadn't gone away, but it certainly felt better when I wasn't just stewing on it.

"My day?" Anna confirmed, glancing at me before looking away again, "Oh, nothing much. Just this and that."

How specific. "I see," I agreed, "Any progress on the clothing stuff with Tiki?"

"A little," Anna admitted, still looking out over the ocean, "But mostly planning out. Making clothes is hard."

I chuckled a little, the dull pain causing me to wince. "Shocking. But, hey, we have a month to work with, right?"

"Yeah," she sighed, looking off into the distance. Her shoulders drooped, and her whole demeanor felt more distant.

"Uh, not used to long journeys by boat?" I hedged, curious.

She shook her head, a thin smile appearing on her face. "It's been a while."

We lapsed into a silence, looking out over the night seas. It wasn't comfortable- the ache in my chest had left, and that was enough for me.

[][][][][][][][]


	7. Song on the Sea

It was one of those really pretty nights on the ocean- crisp air, countless stars, a silvery moon; the works. Hell, after that storm, it was twice as stunning.

But, let me tell you, you can get _tired_ of that. I love the sea, I love the crashing of waves on sand- you get the point. I watched what was at least the tenth silver-velvet night, dotted with a tapestry of prismatic stars, trying to find whatever part of my brain told me to sleep when the Sun went down.

"Aren't you bored of this, Andrew?" And right on cue, here's Anna. Maybe she'd stolen my ability to sleep?

"Bored of what?" I replied dully, "You'll have to be more specific." Getting jostled around by sailors to do 'actor stuff', going out here every night, fiddling with cloth... I was bored of lots of things. I decided that this was as good a time as any to dangle over the side of the helm, staring at the now upside-down rigging.

She snorted, joining me in my dangling. "You too, huh."

I rolled my head so I could get a better look at her. Watching her long red hair go completely vertical was pretty funny, and I stifled a chuckle. "Not even the promise of money's gonna get you going?"

She'd been enthusiastic about that for a few days. Then she got bored, and ended up getting really into making those clothes with Tiki. That lasted until she got into some sort of spat with her, but at least they'd both come away from it with red tunics that were impressively flattering.

"Money," Anna drawled, managing to flick me on the nose, "Is easily the most important thing there is. And I plan to make a _lot_ of it. That tea, though," she sighed, smirking as I rubbed my nose, "Isn't going anywhere right now, unless it's into the ocean. And who would _waste_ perfectly good tea?"

That managed to make me laugh. "I don't know, Anna. Maybe someone was really upset about taxes?"

Regarding me with a raised eyebrow, Anna rolled her eyes. "You're strange, Andrew. There are easier ways to protest taxes."

"Call me crazy," I started, still chuckling, "But-"

"Crazy."

I pinched my nose, doing a quick and somewhat painful vertical sit-up to get the blood out of my head. "Thanks, Anna."

Her eyes twinkled in the flickering moonlight. "Any time. You were saying?"

I paused for a heartbeat, watching the stars gleam off Anna's irises. "Uh. Right. Rebellion isn't easy, maybe they're..." I frowned, "Skipping to something more difficult?"

"Crazy," Anna repeated, performing a very graceful, handless sit-up.

"Well, it _happened_ where I come from," I grumbled, coughing, "So. What brings you here?"

"It was..." she trailed off, chewing her lip. "Too loud inside." That wasn't the whole truth- the hardness of her expression told me that easily enough.

So, feeling particularly brave, I took a deep breath. "Is this about the cart and horse, Anna?"

Should not have done that. Her expression made me regret opening my mouth, hell, it made me wish I'd stayed in bed. "That's- that's none of your business," she snapped, looking away and crossing her arms.

It looked ridiculous, what with both of us being upside-down. More to the point, she didn't move to leave. "I think I get it, though. It was kinda..." I trailed off as the strange gleam in her eyes intensified. "Your home?" I forced it out.

Anna pulled herself up, spinning around so her legs dangled instead. "You wouldn't understand."

Okay, come on. With considerably more effort, I got myself seated properly next to Anna, rubbing my sore back. "I think I do, Anna. I'm..." My throat constricted, a painful knot forming in my stomach as _something_ welled up. "I'm pretty far from home."

Her expression was unreadable, if a touch cold, and it stung more than it should have. "Well, uh," I started, working my jaw and forcing a smile onto my face. "I'll be here if you want to talk about it."

And her stony visage warmed, just slightly, as she shuffled in place. "Maybe I will," she murmured, looking away. "Do you have any siblings?"

I blinked owlishly, the knot in my stomach retying itself in a strange new way. "Two younger brothers, actually," I sighed, gripping the edges of the planks tightly, "I miss 'em."

We sat there for a long time, listening to sea and sailor alike as they chattered through the night. The knot in my stomach slowly unwound itself, matching the cadence of my breath. A comfortable, but distant, silence.

"Three sisters," Anna bit out suddenly, making me jump in place. She raised an eyebrow at that, lips twitching. "Triplets, too. All younger."

"Do they all get called Anna, too?" I mused, "Seems confusing to me."

"That's what we want, yes," she sighed, chewing her lip as she looked back. Lit by moonlight, her face took on stark shadows that lit her eyes radiantly, all of it framed by rolling waves of red hair. "...Thank you, Andrew," she finished quietly.

Looking away, forcing the welling warmth back down, I smiled. "Any time, Anna. We're in this together, somehow."

The quietness snapped away, banished by a rising flow of laughter from belowdecks. Anna put a finger to her chin, giving me lopsided smile, "I think I'm okay with that," she said cheerfully.

A conversation had drawn to a natural close, and yet here we were. "Well, that fixed my boredom for a bit," I remarked drily, "How many days left, do you think?"

Stifling a yawn, Anna shrugged. "Dunno. Maybe nine days?"

"Nine days on this boat, huh," I paused for a moment, digging through my mind. "You said the views are different in Archa-something, right? Less mist and stuff." Brilliant. Archa-something, 'stuff'. Really showing her that I'm paying attention.

"You have such a way with words, Andrew," Anna smirked, batting her eyes dramatically, "And it's Arch-an-e-ah, Archanea."

I gave her the best mock bow I could manage. "Only the best for you, Anna. What about the view, though?"

"At the moment, I see a doofus and a boat," she started drily, stifling a chuckle, "But the views in Archanea are less 'misty and stuff', yeah. Lots of really pretty forests- haven't I already told you this?"

Casting my mind back, I frowned. "In the faraway land of two weeks ago, maybe? We'll just have to see the views ourselves, huh."

"Hopefully war-free and with lots of gullible pilgrims, but that sounds nice," Anna agreed, chewing on her lip slightly. "Lady Tiki and I don't always get along," she paused, rolling her eyes at me, "Don't give me _that_ , Andrew. We can play nice, and as long as she's willing to stick around, she's both extra security _and_ a business opportunity."

"That's a very different tune from when we picked her up," I snarked, the words rolling off my tongue before I could stop them. Oh boy, this wasn't going to go well.

All I got was a flick in the nose. "I might have overreacted, but I was right. We just got lucky, and once we're in Archanea there's not so much to worry about." Never mind me and my worries, then.

"She's still a business opportunity that may literally bite your head off if..." I paused, flushing. "Tiki doesn't like being merchandised, you get the point. But you'll-"

Anna put both of her hands on the deck, leaning back to look straight up. "-toe the line as much as possible, mhm," she hummed, "You're the one that wanted to bring her along, and I'm going to get returns on this somehow."

"The stories talk about someone- _an_ Anna, maybe you-selling Tiki's autograph and then charging for tickets to... a sermon, I think?" I tapped my chin, "Tiki threatened to eat her."

"And here I thought the stories didn't talk about me," Anna remarked, "But you weren't lying then, so you're either remembering, or..."

I nodded. "The stories say there are a lot of Annas, but they embellish. That Anna didn't act anything like you, either," I paused, watching her expression, "She pretty much willingly joined the Shepherds. They're the ones that save the world."

"And you're implying I wouldn't be the hero?" she drawled, eyes sparkling, "That sounds like Ad-" she paused for a heartbeat, fumbling, "Anna alright."

Mentally filing that away, I shrugged. "I'm no hero, Anna, and I doubt you want to be one, either."

"She was always the most adventurous..." Anna trailed off, looking up at the sky with a strange expression.

A question bubbled up. "Does she love soup, too?"

Straightening, Anna put her hands to the hem of her tunic to neaten it. "She doesn't, the _heathen_ ," she spat out dramatically, full of false vitriol, "There's being adventurous, and then there's claiming sandwiches are superior."

"You're kidding," I panned, "I may be wrong in your eyes, but at least we have common ground."

"Mhm. I don't know how Mom raised such a problem child," Anna rolled her eyes, fidgeting with her tunic, "Does anything look wrong with this to you?"

I glanced at her awkwardly, trying not to be a creep. Look, people just looked _pretty_ in this world, okay? "The collar's folded weirdly on the left, I think- unless you're trying to expose a lot of collarbone. So what's her argument for sandwiches?"

"It's too chilly for that and I'm not trying to seduce a buyer, so no," Anna muttered, pulling the collar of her tunic, "Would you believe that her argument is condiments?"

Mentally, I added 'see if ketchup exists' to the top of my list of weird things to do. "That's barely an argument. She's just making excuses, if you ask me."

"Mayo is best used in small amounts, salt is a keystone of soup, and butter..." Anna made a face. "Eugh."

"Butter and what?" I asked, not really wanting to know the answer.

"Buttered bread with eggs and ham. But she goes _heavy_ on the butter, you know?" Anna brought up a hand, holding two fingers about a centimeter apart. "Pure fat. It's going to go straight to her thighs."

"I'm not going to try and tell you apart that way, that's how I get stabbed," I concluded, "But I'll take your word for it."

Anna laughed at that, tossing her hair over one shoulder and flashing me a toothy grin. "Good call. There's no easy way out of that one." She kicked her legs as they dangled over the side, moving her hands forward to grip the edge. As her laugher died down, she let out a contented sigh. "Sandwiches. Honestly. Good food, but not-"

"Nowhere _near_ as good as soup or stir fry," I agreed, shuffling a little bit so my hand wasn't nearly touching hers, "Even if you do have the order wrong."

She huffed, and though I didn't catch it, I was pretty sure she was rolling her eyes. "Andrew. I-"

And a wood door slammed open, carrying the roar of carousing with it. Anna winced, then winced again as Boris stumbled through. "Andrew!" he roared joyously, carrying a tankard of _something_ , "Where is Andrew?"

I shrugged, glancing at Anna. Boris staggered forward a little bit, and I took the opportunity to stand up. "Right here, Boris," I announced, clearing my throat, "What's up?"

The mountain of a man pivoted, long white coat swirling around him as the russian fur cap stayed firmly planted on his head. Eyes twinkling drunkenly, he grinned. "Ah! Andrew! There is you! Come, time to ener- entertain."

"Looks like this is where I get off," I muttered to Anna, "Try not to fall asleep out here, huh?"

Anna rolled her eyes, gesturing with her chin as Boris leaned forward dramatically. "Off you go, then."

Boris cocked his head, bringing one hand up to cup his ear. It almost worked, save for the tankard in his hand. "Speak up, friend! Am too drunk to hear quiet words."

I paced around to the side of the boat and took the stairs down, clearing my throat again. There was no use fighting Boris on this, and I _was_ feeling musical tonight. "Coming," I enunciated, "I can't do skit comedy, but..." I frowned, pausing. "If anyone has a guitar, I guess I could sing."

"Did not know Andrew could sing, da!" Boris chuckled, slamming a hand down on my shoulder and taking a swig out of his tankard, "Hm, Anatoli has guitar. Come, come!"

Anna waved at me as I was dragged down the stairs, far too amused for my tastes.

[][][][][][][][]

Anatoli did have a guitar. A horribly out of tune guitar, but a guitar. Sitting in Boris' cabin, trying to tune a string instrument after nearly a month of downtime, I finally realised I'd agreed to perform for an audience.

And I had no idea what to sing. Now, if I had a partner- no, I'd need to teach them to sing the song too.

_Hey, hey, teach me to sing..._

"That might work," I murmured, strumming the guitar. It seemed mostly in tune- just a few adjustments, and the worst that could happen is a sore thumb. Or screwing up the guitar solo. Or the whole song, because it _was_ a solo performance.

I played a few chords- simple ones, to get a read on the time of the song. I might be playing an octave higher than I wanted, but... "Yeah, this'll work. Not the most relevant song, but I know it well."

"Then get on it."

I jumped nearly a foot in the air, easily identifying Anna's voice as she slid through the door. Putting a hand to my chest as I balanced the guitar, I let out a huff. "That door _creaks_ , Anna, and I wanted that as a warning if Boris came back early."

She shrugged, tossing her hair over one shoulder. "Not my problem. You should get going, the crowd's restless."

"You don't know that," I countered with a grin as I stood up, "You're just trying to be nice." In your own way, that is.

Crossing her arms, Anna left in a huff. "Just get on it."

[][][][][][][][]

At the stern of the ship, under Boris' cabin, was a long hall that could fit most of the crew. Lanterns lined the side, creaking as the ship rocked and casting broad, gold pools of light. A dining area I never used, because the sailors down here drank and boasted about their conquests more than I'd like. Hell, they were drinking at that very moment, waiting for me to start. Ignoring that as best I could, I took a seat at the far end, giving me a good distance to see everyone from.

I cleared my throat, pulling my voice from my stomach and taking a few long breaths. I'd done musicals before, and I was damn well going to put that skill to work. "Not ten minutes ago," I began, dropping my voice and smirking as I caught more than enough attention, "Your captain, Boris, asked me to perform for you boys."

A drunken response of consensus, some of it in an entirely different language. Good enough. "Now, I know it's been a long trip-"

More drunken rambling, though this time with a more coherent chorus of 'aye' and 'yea', among other such things. You get the point.

"So of course I agreed- but with such short notice, I'll only have one or two songs for you tonight. Maybe three," I finished apologetically, "And before you get bored, let's get on with it, eh? First up, a little song called _How to Let it Go_ by a duo calling themselves _Ryanhood_."

And I shut the world out, letting the music flow through my thoughts. I tapped my foot, giving me my metronome and beat. A partner would have made this much easier, but- here we are. My hand drifted across the guitar, playing the opening chords of a song I loved. Pull them in, let them connect with the tune.

Deep breaths, speak from the stomach. Concentrate, don't worry too much. Just keep going.

_I got a feeling, inside of me-_

There we go. Stop the guitar, but I need percussion. Slap the guitar, keep tapping my foot.

_It's a jealousy, and it gets me every time_

_I take a look around, check my bank account_

_And then I start to doubt, that I'm getting what is mine_

I stepped out of my little world for a moment. Good, they were interested. I had to keep track of my words here, though; these next few lines came fast and could only take half a measure per phrase, wait no, that's wrong. Mentally, I flicked myself. Focus on the song.

_It's a fear view, all skewed_

_Upside downward spiral bounded set perspective_

_Let's give up the game, give up the fame_

_Give up ourselves and say…_

And here's the drop. Or whatever you call it. I need percussion next time I do this.

_Hey Hey, teach me to sing_

_To paint my pain into prettier things_

_Hey Hey, would you let me know how to let it go?_

_I got a feeling, inside of me_

_Anxiety, and it keeps me up at night_

_I try to wait it out, but it's all around_

_Like a dust cloud, and it's crowding up my mind_

_A lesson in social obsession_

_Always checking all directions_

_Please just let me be here, set me free_

_To be myself and say…_

Some of them looked like they wanted to sing along. That brought a smile to my face as I took a short, deep breath.

_Hey Hey, teach me to sing_

_To paint my pain into prettier things_

_Hey Hey, would you let me know how to let it go?_

_Hey Hey, help me walk away_

' _Cause it hurts to leave but it's worse to stay_

_Hey Hey, would you let me know how to let it go?_

Time to prepare for that guitar solo, because my thumb already felt sore for some reason.

_How to let it..._

_Let it..._

_Let it..._

_Let it..._

And now into the guitar solo. My fingers flew across the strings, sliding up and down with the shifting of notes and making my thumb feel sore with each strum. Short but sweet, leading right into the last verse.

_Hey Hey, teach me to sing_

_To paint my pain into prettier things_

_Hey Hey, would you let me know how to let it go?_

_Hey Hey, help me walk away_

' _Cause it hurts to leave but it's worse to stay_

_Hey Hey, would you let me know how to let it go?_

I'd worried too much, that was certain. If I had enough time to have an internal commentary, I had enough time to screw up. As I wrapped up the final chords, I finally looked up for more than a heartbeat-

And they didn't seem to mind at all. A few of them were clapping, and only one extra person was passed out. I cleared my throat, putting on a smile and a thespian's bravado. "So, did our illustrious captain make the right call?"

Their drunken- but enthusiastic- response told me all I needed to know. "Sorry, I didn't catch that," I started with a far toothier grin, "Should I play another?"

Maybe not my wisest choice, because now I wasn't sure if I'd be able to hear the guitar after that shouting. Hooked on a Feeling? Not my best, but it was pretty easy and they'd catch on. "This next one isn't my best, but I'm sure you'll like it- A little song called _Hooked on a Feeling_. And a one, two, three-"

[][][][][][][][]

I took a long sip of hot tea, feeling the press of vapor on my skin. "Ahh," I croaked out, "Thanks for this, Tiki."

"You must be more cautious in your performances, Andrew," Tiki chided, taking a sip of her own tea. Her green eyes shimmered, the skin around them wrinkling in a subtle smile. "It is a pity I slept through it. Captain Boris tells me it was quite impressive."

We were seated at a table in Boris' cabin, listening to the groan of wood and the muffled chatter of afternoon bustle. Taking a second sip, I smiled thinly. "I wasn't-" I coughed into my fist, "I should know my limits, you're right."

She shook her head, closing her eyes briefly. "Now, Andrew, that's not what I meant and you know it quite well. You must take more caution in the future."

"Y-yeah," I whispered, "Didn't expect it to do a number on my throat, though. I'm an actor, you know?"

Tiki tilted her head, interlacing her fingers and resting her arms on the table. "And how long has it been since you did vocation exercise?"

"Just hours before the performance," I explained, "I was mid-play before I ended up here, you know."

She hummed, nodding. "And?"

I blinked owlishly, tracing backwards through time. "That was, what, nineteen days ago? That's not enough time to lose ground so long as I... keep up my practice. Damn." I did my best to glower at Tiki's expression. "Stop looking so smug."

Her lips twitched as she took a sip of tea. "The Voice, smug? Nay, child of man, I am beyond such emotions."

"Of course, my lady," I nodded, putting on my best french accent, "It must have been my flawed imagination. Forg-" my cough interrupted me, and I rolled my eyes at Tiki's increasingly bemused expression.

She chuckled, her strangely sharp canines flashing in the light. "I did nothing. You defeated yourself." Placing her teacup down, she frowned. "Is the tea hot enough for you, Andrew?"

I took another sip, letting out a contented sigh as it eased my sore throat. "It's a little hot," I admitted, "But the vapor feels nice on my face. Keeps my-" I paused to cough, grimacing slightly, "Keeps my pores clean."

Humming again, Tiki tilted her head, and my heart clenched as her eyes flashed white. For a heartbeat, they were slit like a reptile's and framed by faint white scales. She lifted her teacup, spat a barely-visible ball of hot air at it, and smiled as hit steamed. "Much better," she nodded to herself, eyes returning to normal as she blinked.

"You've done that before, but-" I snapped my mouth shut as she raised an eyebrow. "Fine. I can talk comfortably this way," I muttered, "Drinking tea that is literally boiling seems unnatural."

"The boiling of water is a perfectly natural process," Tiki smirked, taking a sip of her tea, "I am just helping it along."

"My tongue is made of water," I protested quietly, "I don't want it to boil. Doesn't it get your face wet, too?"

Picking up a fabric towelette, Tiki winked. "It keeps my face clean and clear, as you said. You cannot argue with results."

Working my jaw as she wiped the dampness off her face, I really _looked_ at her. It can't be understated- Tiki is a very pretty woman. Sharpish features, high cheekbones, and subtly slanted green eyes gave her an oddly elven feel, and with her long pointed ears, she completed the fantasy elf look. I felt like a bit of a creep, staring at her like that, but I pushed that aside.

"I guess I can't," I admitted, flushing and looking away, "Do Manaketes even _get_ acne? Does _anyone?_ "

"If I did not know you were an Outlander, I would think you mad," Tiki mused, tilting her head, "I had it for a number of years, but it was subtle and easy to mask. Now, though, I find makeup a chore; I am lucky I no longer need it."

"How does makeup work with the..." I gestured at her eyes and then my own. "Scaley thing? Does it stick at all?"

Tiki shrugged, taking another sip of tea. "I do not know. I discovered the," she brought up her hands to make air quotes, "Scaley thing, as you put it, after my preferred mixers of foundation fell with their kingdom. That was, ah," she paused, drumming her fingers on the table.

"Tiki, your claws," I pointed, wincing as her nails literally _dug_ into the wood.

"One thousand nine-hundred and three, perhaps?" Tiki frowned, glancing at the table. "So I was. I hope Captain Boris does not mind."

I gestured to the knife sticking out of the table. "Probably not, but wood is probably sucky to get out of your fingernails."

Inspecting her fingernails, Tiki reached for the pot. "None today, luckily. Would you like another cup as well?"

I took a long sip, wincing as the slightly too-hot water rushed down my throat. Coughing, I nodded.

She responded with an unladylike snort, switching hands and continuing to prepare two cups of tea one-handed. "You are allowed to decline, Andrew."

"I know," I agreed, talking between coughs, "Just wanted another cup."

Nodding, she handed me another cup, which I accepted. "Thanks," I whispered, "I really appreciate this, Tiki."

"It is not entirely selfless," she shrugged gracefully, her lips twitching into another smile, "I enjoy casual company."

"I enjoy your company," I shot back, " _And_ you're making me tea."

Quirking an eyebrow, Tiki took a long sip of tea. "Better company than General Moustache and his human, Cervantes," she replied drily.

I snorted, sputtering and coughing as hot tea went somewhere it shouldn't. Before I could manage a response to her comment, Boris came bursting through the door with a _thump_ of heavy boots and a blast of sailor chatter.

"Ah! Lady Tiki, and man of hour!" He chuckled, adjusting his fur hat and straightening his long white coat, "Is good tea, hm? Comes from the homeland!"

So that's where she got it from. If she'd nicked it from Anna, there would have been no saving us from her wrath. I watched Tiki take a delicate sip, closing her eyes and humming. "Earthy, sweet, and a touch dry. Cinnamon and dried cherry?"

Wrapping up my coughing fit, I shrugged. "I tasted a bit of clove, honestly."

"Hm," his bright blue eyes twinkled as he lumbered over to the table, seating himself closer to me than to Tiki. "Is special mix from Babushka," he explained, his tone brightening, "Cinnamon, cherry, and nutmeg- best had with splash of rum!"

"Nutmeg," I muttered before raising my voice carefully, "It's doing wonders for my throat, Boris. Thank you."

"Captain Boris is a generous host," Tiki nodded, giving the man a gentle smile, "We are in your debt. Allow me to prepare you a cup, perhaps?"

Barking out a laugh, Boris slapped his belly. "Voice of Naga, offering lowly captain tea? No, no. Cannot accept, have too much to do!" He grinned toothily, grabbing the knife stuck into the table and yanking it out. "You two will be good for Anna, yes."

"How-" I caught Tiki's expression and nodded. "You go first, Tiki. Sorry." I couldn't remember who it was, but someone had said Anna didn't have companions that stuck around- so I doubted many people really knew her that well.

Taking a short sip and placing her cup down, Tiki tilted her head. "I am sure we had similar questions of our good Captain. Boris, how long have you known Anna?"

"Pretty much what I was gonna ask, yeah," I confirmed, looking at Boris. The man flipped the dagger in his hand before slipping it into a sheathe sewn into his coat.

He stroked his black beard, eyes staring into the middle distance. "Many years ago, First Mate Boris met small woman with red hair," he lifted a large hand, holding it flat at about five feet above the floor, "Ten years, maybe. But rest of story is not mine to tell, eh?" He chuckled, gesturing at the door. "Now, must go watch crew. Anatoli still sleeping after Andrew's songs!" Giving Tiki a nod, he lumbered out of the cabin.

My ears thumped in the sudden silence. "He's a loud man," I mused, taking a sip of tea, "Comes in and out like a storm." Pausing for a moment, I frowned. "Hey, Tiki. Why'd you ask about Anna?"

She shrugged, tenting her fingers. "I was- and am- curious. The Anna family has a long history, and I have never gotten the chance to learn much about them."

"Huh," I took a sip of tea, putting a hand to my throat and coughing. "Makes sense. Do you-"

Tiki raised an eyebrow, parting her lips in a sharp smile. "Drink your tea and let your throat heal, Andrew. We are not pressed for time."

I promptly shut up. Her tone was soft, but her teeth told a different story.

[][][][][][][][]

No more than half an hour later, I found myself belowdecks in the main area with a slightly healed throat and an out-of-tune guitar. Without tea to soothe my voice, Tiki's gentle 'shut up' reminder had a lot more weight to it.

Well, it already had a lot of weight, but it was nice to see reason behind the subtle threat. With songs running silently through my thoughts, I strummed the guitar and winced. The note was a little flat, and it wasn't the nice kind.

I looked up to see Anna gliding down the steps, silently approaching. I waved at her, pointing at my throat.

Once she got closer, she gave me a curt nod, eyes steely and glinting with hidden motivation. " _There_ you are, Andrew," she huffed, crossing her arms, "You'd think finding people would be easier on this ship."

"Have you-" I coughed, startled at the hoarse sound of my own voice. "Did you ask for directions?"

She rolled her eyes, pulling up a seat next to me. "Boris said you were having tea with Lady Tiki," she explained, "And I'm not _really_ that interested in the Voice trying to dissect my morality."

Snorting, I watched her use the seat as a footrest as she sat herself on the table. Once her eyes were back on me, I shrugged. "Fair," I whispered, making sure I was loud enough for her to hear.

Blinking, Anna put a finger to her chin. "That's right. You could make a clean copper if you charged for performances, you know," she smirked, "Handy with math, decent con partner, and now you turn out to be a singer? You're already turning out to be a decent investment."

I shifted in place, something knotting in my stomach. "I try," I forced out, flashing a smile, "Maybe a little too hard, if we-" I coughed, clearing my throat, "If we count last night."

"Mhm," Anna nodded, working her jaw, "Speaking of, how do bank accounts work?"

My mind threw an error as it ground to a halt, trying to turn around and catch whatever train of thought Anna had just thrown my way. "Uh," I frowned, "What?"

Chewing her lip, Anna smirked. After a brief pause, she opened her mouth and _sang_ -

_I take a look around, check my bank account_

_And then I start to doubt, that I'm getting what is mine_

And, of course, my brain caught up just in time to derail entirely. Her singing voice was lower than expected, and a little rough from inexperience- but _damn_ could she deliver a line. I'd helped coach people before on their singing, and I was certain she could do well if she had some practice. Shaking my head, I finally started to drink in what she'd actually sung.

Through this, of course, Anna was looking at me with vague amusement. "Spacing out again? Is my voice too inexperienced for your _thespian_ ears?"

I took a long, embarrassed moment to get my thoughts together. There was a muffled shout from above that drew my attention, but Anna didn't seem concerned.

Flushing, I shook my head again. "One question at a time, one question at a time," I grumbled, clearing my throat. Taking a deep breath, I looked up at her. "A bank account is... something from my world, because, y'know, I'm not from here. It's a way for people to store money safely- I thought you'd have them here, but I guess that was-"

Anna coughed into her fist, making me pause. "I know what a bank account is, thanks. I'm asking what the difference is for your... world. Most people don't have money stored in an account- just merchants and nobles who frequent the cities a bank happens to operate in."

"Oh, yeah!" I said a little too loudly, wincing. Rubbing the back of my head as Anna smirked, I continued, "It was a weird question, and I got confused. Most people _have_ them where I'm from. You can get your job to deposit directly to the account- so ' _I start to doubt, that I'm getting what is mine'_ , and all that."

Chewing her lip, Anna visibly turned the information over in her head. "Neat idea. The logistics seem too expensive for me- but you have a lot of interesting ideas we might be able to use. All you need now is to learn how to fight, and we're golden."

"I'd rather not fight," I said quietly, the bottom dropping out of my stomach, "Can't I help in other ways?"

I couldn't meet Anna's eyes, but I heard her frustrated sigh. " _Andrew_ , you've got a good foundation. You just need to-"

A thunderous slamming of boots shattered the moment as Boris barreled down the stairs. "To arms, friends!" He bellowed, hefting a massive cutlass in one hand and balancing a dagger in the other, "Ship is on horizon! Have _many_ crew, and not looking to play nice! To arms!" His voice didn't fade much as he tromped down the stairs, further into the ship.

If I hadn't been worried before, I was worried now. Anna had already sprung to her feet, a long dagger balanced in her right hand. "Well," she said, voice cutting like cold iron, "Looks like you don't have much of a choice."

[][][][][][][][]


	8. Pirates!

I'd come into this world- this Fire Emblem game made real-with my outfit as the Duke, and nothing else. No phone, no scraps of paper; only an ornamental sword that had become disturbingly real.

I unsheathed it in the dim light of my cabin, the dull but jagged rhythm of sailors my only company. "Not a scratch," I murmured, running my hand gently along the flat of the blade, "No stains from last time, either." I watched the banded metal glint dully, feeling the cacophony of oncoming battle fade away.

My insides twisted as I buckled the sheath to my outfit- I didn't have armor, no, but the outfit of the Duke would work well enough as padding. "You need a name," I remarked, still watching the sword with a heavy pit in my stomach, "If we're going to be fighting, that is. Call me unoriginal, but... how about ' _The Duke_ '?"

The sword, predictably, said nothing. In that quiet, I picked up that Fire Tome I'd been holding on to- though using it would probably be way too dangerous. I smirked to myself, feeling a bit weak in the knees as I sheathed the sword and stepped into the chaos.

[][][][][][][][]

Gold waves glittered in the afternoon light, the glare bouncing in such a way that I could barely see the three small ships sailing towards us. I shifted in place, hands gripping the railing as Boris' first mate- Anatoli- watched the ships with a spyglass. "How do you not get blinded by that?" I queried, releasing the railing with one hand to shade my eyes.

Anatoli was nowhere near the mountain of a man that Boris was. He still had considerable muscle, but his whole build was leaner and lankier- perfect for scrambling up netting with little effort. A sheathed cutlass hung from a simple belt around his brown pants, the gemmed pommel glinting redly.

The man himself chuckled, startling me out of my thoughts. "Ha! Special lenses from Plegia, where sand as bright as sky," he brought the spyglass down from his eye, pointing it so the subtly browned lens was visible, "It cost many silvers, but was worth it! Pirates no longer have surprise, eh?"

"That's pretty clever, actually," I smirked, _The Duke_ weighing heavily on my belt, "I'm guessing you have a normal spyglass as well, right?" Tinted lenses weren't exactly a new thing, but it was still interesting to see here. I doubted they really understood why it worked- a thing called polarization-but still.

"Of course!" Anatoli nodded, putting the spyglass up again, "Not much longer, no," he muttered before raising his voice, "Men! Three minutes now!"

More of Boris' men shuffled out onto the decks, the cacophony long faded as a handful started to mess with the rigging. I searched the crowd- Anna and Tiki were still nowhere to be seen. Would Tiki fight at all? "What're they doing with the rigging?" I asked, still focused on movements below us. "Safety stuff?"

Anatoli twisted the spyglass, humming a strange song to himself. "Ah! Good question. That is Charli and Dura- moving ropes so they do not trip us," he explained amicably. His whole demeanor suddenly shifted, muscles tensing and fingers twitching around the spyglass. The warm accent he sported hardened in that instant, harsh and cold like winter . "Captain Boris! The flag!"

"Are you sure he-" I started, only for Anatoli to put a hand in front of me.

"Da," he said quietly, "Now is not time for talk, friend."

There was a biting wind, nipping at the fringes, and I took that moment to step back. Anna sidled up next to me, her sudden presence making my entire body twitch. Her soft red eyes glanced to Anatoli before moving back to me, and her lips bent into a lopsided frown. "Oh," she murmured, "It's her, isn't it."

Boris interrupted my next question, advancing up the stairs with the stiffness of ice and steel, coat drifting in the breeze. "Are you sure, Anatoli?" He commanded, hefting his heavy cutlass over one shoulder, knuckles pale against the sheen of metal, "Is not right time of year."

"Is her, Boris. Maria," Anatoli confirmed, handing Boris the spyglass.

The glass looked like a toy in his hands, and I watched his mountainous form slump under a sudden weight. "Maria," Boris rumbled, a tumbling of snow in a blizzard, "Oh, Maria."

I wanted to ask, but Anna's expression was more than enough of a warning.

The moment dragged, a pause between heartbeats that stole my breath. It was only broken by Tiki gliding up to the helm, bow and quiver slung over her shoulder as she balanced a sword in her right hand. "It has been centuries since I last crossed blades with a pirate," she mused, eyes glinting as they looked over the rapidly straightening form of Boris, "Are we prepared?"

Boris let out a booming laugh, rolling his neck and planting both hands on the railing. "Is time! Are we ready, friends?"

The roar of agreement that slammed back at us nearly made my already weak knees buckle. "It's time," I whispered uncertainly, hand resting on the pommel of my sword, "It's time."

"It is not quite that," Tiki frowned, moving towards us with deep-cut emerald eyes, "We do not yet know how they will board, and there is a chance my presence will scare them off."

Taking the spyglass back from Boris, Anatoli brought it up to his eye again. "Ships are splitting. One for starboard, one for port, third, eh..." He frowned, working his jaw. "Port as well, yes."

"How do we, uh," I started, coughing and raising my hoarse voice when nobody heard me, "What if they just run away when they see we're prepared?"

Of all people, _Anna_ was the one that answered me as we watched Boris return to shouting instructions. "Doubtful. See that flag, Andrew?" she pointed up at the Crow's nest, watching for my eyes to follow her finger.

"White with, uh," I paused shading my eyes, "A red crown? I think? Is that a cutlass, too?"

"That is what I see," Tiki agreed, tilting her head and crossing her arms, "So Captain Boris is known in these seas?"

Anna rolled her eyes, letting out a sigh. "That's about right, Lady Tiki, thanks," she started dryly as Tiki smirked, "Not quite there though. That flag is for the League of Northern Sailors, or as the sailors prefer to call it, Captain Tark's League."

I blinked, frowning and tilting my thoughts away from the rapidly approaching ships. "The g-" I coughed into my fist, "Sorry, throat. Uh, the stories never mentioned _any_ of this, but then again... why would it matter to the Shepherds?"

"You seem surprised," Tiki nodded, hoisting herself up onto a barrel and playing with her bow, "There is always more to history than what is remembered, Andrew."

"You could sell that wisdom somehow, I'm sure," I remarked, forcing a wry smile before looking down, "It's just that- it's amazing how little I actually _know_ about this place." And I grit my teeth at the thought of it. My knowledge might not even be useful- and then what good am I?

Loudly clearing her throat, Anna put a finger to her chin. "Maybe we could have it carved into some plaques... As I was _saying_ ," she began, daring either of us to speak as she leaned against the back railing, "Captain Tark's League is well-respected. I prefer League ships when sending _anything_ overseas, because most pirates wouldn't dare attack them. Unless, you know, they're feeling a little brave."

"Or foolish," I supplied, fidgeting with my sword again. "How much longer until-"

An arrow flashed overhead, soaring towards the rapidly approaching ships. Anna whirled around, knife in hand as she hissed at Tiki, "Don't _do_ that."

"The man at the prow had a Tome," she replied, tilting her head, "I thought it prudent to deal with them ahead of time."

"And-" I started again, raising my voice.

"Still," Anna argued over me, working her jaw, "That was dangerous. Warn me next time."

"If it is possible," Tiki said musically, knocking another arrow and closing one eye, "Hm. It only hit them in the shoulder. Anna, I'm firing another arrow."

"Nevermind!" I grumbled, unsheathing my sword, "I'll just go ask Boris."

I saw them glance at each other out of the corner of my eye. Anna looked confused, which was at least a little satisfying to me.

[][][][][][][][]

They weren't far, apparently. Only a minute away, pushed slightly by the wind as our ship started to slow down. My stomach twisted at the _twang_ of Tiki's bow, knotting itself further with the wet _thud_ of an arrow entering some poor sod's chest. "How many of them," I paused, shaking my head and trying to banish the waver in my voice, "How many of them do you think you could take out?"

"Eight, maybe twelve," Tiki replied instantly, raising her fingers to count before giving up, "But then they'd respond in kind, and we do not have a proper answer to that."

I chuckled, somewhat uncomfortably. That made sense. I drew a long, shuddering breath, shifting the grip on my sword. "They're coming alongside," I murmured, watching as two ships turned, lining up to portside as the third began to curve over to starboard. "Let's..." my throat constricted, "Let's do this."

Tiki opened her mouth to answer, but I didn't get to hear it. The roar of battle was upon us in a heartbeat, dragging us in like a tidal wave and drowning all else. Pirates leapt from rigging and tumbled along hasty bridges, swinging notched swords from gnarled hands. Boris' sailors responded, matching blades and shouting back with curses in countless languages- at the fringe, a flicker of red as Anna danced through it all.

I looked to the side. The starboard ship hadn't docked yet, but Boris was taking point on that side. "Maybe I won't have to fight at all," I remarked, leaning over the helm, "That'd be nice."

Tiki gave me a sympathetic smile before raising an eyebrow, looking at the oncoming pirates. "Less lives will be lost if I assist, I'm sure," she mused, a flicker of fangs peering through her lips, "Those pirates don't kill themselves."

"I'm not saying suicide is the answer, but..." I frowned, lowering my raised finger as Tiki charged away. And then I was stranded in the sea of battle, alone. The sounds of it assaulted me, all of it shattered by the sudden, rending cry of death as _someone_ was struck down. I couldn't even see who, but I hoped it was a pirate. But the battle had not reached me here, and hopefully-

The ship to starboard ground against our hull, and Boris was the first one into the fray. A glacier of frigid steel, advancing and dealing death with every step. Sailors formed a wall against the rest of the pirates, meeting their blades in bloodthirsty dances. It was enthralling, in a grim way, and it nearly led to my death.

One had made it past, a lanky, short-haired woman who I only saw in the reflection of her own blade.

What little experience I had snapped into focus, slotting in as I spun backwards. TheDuke spun with me, its whitish steel edge meeting my attacker's midswing with a _clang_. The blades bounced off each other, and I could feel the Duke hum in my hands. I pulled the movement further, my arms straining as I tried to force the tip away.

She hissed, pulling her sword back- and I cursed. Her sword had a curve to it, and she leveraged it to nearly yank the Dukeout of my hands. This move had _always_ caught me off guard at HEMA practice. Even as the sword clung in my sweaty grip, I felt it strain against my wrists. With an awkward twist, I tried to get haphazard backhand swing off at her shoulder.

I felt my insides turn to jelly as it bit softly into her shoulder, watching the edge of my blade stain red as I pulled it straight up and lashed out with a kick.

The kick met her chest, but it set me off balance. She reversed her grip on her sword, slamming the pommel into my thigh and sending me toppling to the side. My vision darkened for a few, frantic heartbeats, opening up with just enough time for me to roll to the side. The blade planted itself in the wood of the helm, and I took the chance to bounce back up and-

The Duke was going to kill her. I saw it, she knew it. There was no fear in her eyes, only a fire that singed my thoughts and burned its way into my memory.

A thrust to the heart, just to the right of center and through her ribs. TheDuke came out dripping- in the dullness that followed I nearly missed her getting a swing in at my arm. I hissed as my sluggish form didn't quite get out of the way, leaving me with a long cut on the arm. I watched her curse as she staggered back, hand to her chest, thoughts dull and distant.

Something bubbled up from my past, and I faintly heard myself murmuring something. It felt familiar, I could just make it out over the roar of my heartbeat and the clash of steel:

_To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;_

_For in that sleep of death what dreams may come_

_When we have shuffled off this mortal coil..._

"Shakespeare?" I laughed to myself, the absurdity of it tearing me from the fog, "I didn't even get the role of Hamlet."

I put a hand up to my arm, feeling the cut. "Not so bad," I speculated, "Not so bad for..." for killing someone. My whole body was shaking, twitching with adrenaline, and that was how I saw my next opponent.

Another woman, this one much taller- a mountain, like Boris, looming in her black coat as a cutlass gleamed in her hand. Her hard-edged face was twisted in wrath, blue eyes aflame as she charged at me in a wordless roar. There was no way I could match that strength, and backed up against the railing near the helm, I needed to dodge, and _fast_. Muscles screaming, with her blade only inches from my face, I launched myself to the side.

A shock of pain flashed up my side, and the pommel-strike to my leg made itself known. It buckled, and I was sent tumbling against the wheel of the ship. I think I bit my cheeks a few times, trying to prevent myself from shouting out in pain. I probably did anyways, though; it was hard to tell.

Then, a heavy hand landed on my shoulder, firing adrenaline through my frame. I yelped again, sword coming out in a half-swing before I realized who it was _._ Boris, a towering mountain of ice, barely scratched by the still-raging battle. "She looks tough," I croaked out, letting Boris help me to my feet. "Though I think my real enemy is the gravity here."

He looked at me, eyes gleaming, and chuckled. "Be safe, friend," Boris said quietly, "Is Captain Maria."

"Ah," I nodded, inspecting Boris quickly. "Is all that clothing reinforced somehow? Only a few cuts to show for..." I gestured out at the battle, or what was left of it. A lot of the pirates were dead, but the flow of battle was still volatile.

I don't think Boris heard as he turned to face the woman, hands tightly gripping his cutlass and dagger. His black coat drifted in the sea wind. "Go, friend. Help Anna. Is my fight to finish."

Without the support of Boris, my knee started to complain, but I grit my teeth and bore it. I wanted to help- I should help- "Good luck, Boris," I said quietly, gripping the railing and turning away. "Good luck."

Leaving the tension of Boris and Maria to my back, I surveyed the battle hastily. Anatoli had made his way through one of the two ships portside, but the fighting was still going strong. It was numbing to watch- or maybe I was already numb. I was a murderer, after all.

The deck was in chaos.

Sorry, that's an understatement.

A man nearly the size of Boris was beset by three sailors I recognized, brushing off wounds that would've taken me out permanently. Tiki was poetry in motion, a flowing blur of clanging metal; as she fought off three men at once using her sword as she stood over an injured sailor. Each parry, each deflection, forced one of them closer to the ledge- it was strangely beautiful, a thought only enhanced when she paused to breathe white fire at an oncoming fourth opponent. At least ten men were down and out of the fight, some of them ours. It looked like we were winning, but not without cost.

So, the deck wasn't in chaos so much as it _was_ chaos. Very loud chaos, glinting with clashing steel and decorated by still bodies. I wanted to turn heel and run, but my rational side reminded me I was on a boat. The only exit was the ocean, and my lifeguarding certification expired years ago. Thanks for that trivia, brain.

Boris and Maria were still deathly silent, as far as my ears could tell. So I moved on to Anna, who I assumed was fine.

Terrifying as she was, surrounded by five dead men and using a sixth as a body shield as she choked him out- did I mention she was terrifying?-she was surrounded near their helm. Frankly I had no idea how she'd gotten there. What I did know was that I owed Anna a lot, and I couldn't afford to be useless here. I brought my sword up, and for a moment I saw it buried in that first bandit's shoulder- the man who nearly caused Anna's death because I was afraid. I saw it in that woman's chest, her eyes burned into my thoughts.

This time, I did gag, my stomach twitching and almost emptying my dinner onto the deck as I limped my way down the stairs. Scattered thought and drifting emotions crashed into a single point of reflex as an axe came flashing towards me, allowing me to duck under and slam the pirate in the sternum with the pommel of my sword. It forced the air out of his lungs with a _whuf_ , sending him pinwheeling and into combat with another sailor. Looking away, I decided I could avoid nightmares here if I was careful. Maybe more than just careful, I added as I tried to weave through, joining the pair fighting off a man with _two_ swords.

Turning into a spin, he slammed one sailor's sword aside but got caught on mine as I used my shoulder to back up the flat of my blade. Pushing further forward, I did my best to open up space for the sailors to finish him off, which they did.

My shoulder started to sting, the wound from earlier now joined by a scratch from that pirate's sword. I looked up again, checking on both of my friends-

 _Anna_.

She was pinned against the back railing by two men, face red and beaded with sweat as she frantically evaded their swings. It was wearing on her, and I didn't have much time. "Tiki!" I roared, shoulder aching in two places now, "Anna's in trouble!"

Tiki looked up from her most recent kill, reptilian green eyes burning with an unsettling gleam. Blinking and kicking a dead bandit aside, she looked around her before fixing her now-human eyes on Anna. "I cannot!" She shouted back, glancing to the injured sailors behind her, "It would put them at too much risk."

That's not good. I crashed through the pirates as best I could, deflecting and dodging as best I could. The few cuts I got barely even registered, and even with that speed I was barely in time. I looked up-

Anna slipped up on a parry, an axe sliding along her knuckles and sending her crashing to the ground in a startled shout.

Leaping up the last few stairs, I switched to a two handed grip and _swung_ , clipping the first man I saw across the back and receiving a glancing blow in the knee as he pivoted. Pain bloomed in my already damaged knee as it finally started to give out- but I could push through it, I realized. Just buy her time. Anna was up, stabbing the first man in the throat as she stomped on his foot. Her teeth flashed in a wrathful grin, reversing her grip and executing the second man with terrifying grace.

"Oh, good," I muttered, falling to one knee, "Looks like I made it."

She stared at me for a long moment, chest heaving as sweat dripped down her face. "Thanks," she forced out, "Looks like you're not so bad after all."

"Doubtful," I shot back, sidling towards the railing, "I think I'm gonna throw up when this is done."

Raising an eyebrow as she helped me up, Anna gave me a lopsided smirk "That happens. You get used to it all."

I didn't want to get used to killing people. "How's your," I grunted as I finally got up against the railing, "Thanks, Anna. How's your hand?"

She winced, pulling her hands back from my side and biting out a bitter laugh. "I'll get blood all over my clothes _and_ yours at this rate. It's..." Anna hissed as she inspected it. "It'll scar, at least for a bit, but I'll be fine."

"Good, good," I nodded, pausing for a moment to let the swell of clashing steel fill the silence. "I suppose we should get back into it, shouldn't we?"

Looking over my shoulder at the battle, Anna shook her head. "No, looks like they're almost done. It's just-" She gasped, nearly putting her bloodied hand to her face before I grabbed it and put it back down.

"What is it?" I asked quietly, "Do you have anything we can, uh, wrap this with?"

"Right," Anna chuckled bitterly again, this time reaching with her uninjured hand into a pocket on her belt. A long strip of white fabric- bandages, obviously-came out, and she nodded at me. "You can let go, Andrew."

I flushed, yanking my now reddened hand back as Anna started to wrap her hand. "So what did you see?"

Anna looked thoroughly derailed, thoughts as scattered as mine behind her red eyes. "Boris and Maria are fighting," she explained quietly, "It's just... strange, to me."

"I don't really know who Maria is, but-" I started, turning around with a wince as I did, "Oh, _wow_."

They'd made their way to the main deck, which was now otherwise clear of combatants. Two mountainous fighters clashed, each measured swing of their heavy cutlasses aimed to brutally maim as they circled each other. And yet, they were both barely scratched; for each executioner's swing, there was a parry or block that forced the pair into a silent deadlock.

Resting her arms on the railing, Anna popped into sight. "Yeah," she agreed, nodding curtly.

"I was expecting something more dramatic from you," I commented, wincing as Boris drew a thin line of blood from the underside of Maria's left arm. "Ow, that's gotta sting."

Anna inspected her bandaged hand, shrugging. "I'm not paid by the word, why bother?"

With a pained chuckle, I smirked. "You're not being paid for this. But," I paused, thinking on it, "You're the best healer on the ship, as far as I can tell." Boris leapt back, earning a nick on his hand as he batted Maria's cutlass aside.

"Lady Tiki would be better, and Boris has more experi-" she inhaled sharply, tensing as Maria forced Boris backwards a step. Her eyes gleamed dully in the afternoon light, and I yanked my hand back before it could make contact with her shoulder.

Clearing my throat and trying to untangle the knots in my stomach, I looked at Anna. "He'll-" She wouldn't want the reassurance. "So you and Boris can work together, then. Maybe Tiki can teach me a thing or two while we're at it?"

"That sounds nice," Anna agreed, taking a deep breath. "Do you-"

Boris wound his cutlass back, expression inscrutable. "Taught you many things, Maria," he declared, voice creeping with frost, "Not all things." The edges of his blades gleamed gold as he renewed his attack, forcing the woman backwards with every swing.

"I don't need your teachings, _Boris_ ," Maria spat out, her voice cutting against the clattering metal, "I'm stronger than you now." She pushed back, meeting his cutlass with her own. Her dagger swung up to jab him-

A blur of movement, faster than I could catch-

Her weapons thudded against the deck, and Maria fell to her knees. The shadow of Boris hid her expression, but I saw him put a hand to her cheek. "Dream sweetly, dear Maria," he murmured, voice stark against the sudden silence.

"What just happened?" I whispered, eyes locked on the pair.

"We won," Anna replied shortly, stepping away from the railing, "That's all."

The world exhaled, life returning in a scurry of cheering sailors and shouted orders. Even as I limped down the stairs, I couldn't take my eyes off Boris. Even when I nearly crashed into Anna's back, tumbling on my weakened knee.

[][][][][][][][]

Like a drop of green ink in water, warmth rippled outwards from my knee. The strain in my muscles eased, cuts closed, and the pain in my leg faded to a dull throb. Letting out an involuntary groan, I slouched backwards in my seat. "Ugh. I owe you one, Tiki."

Bringing the staff up, Tiki smiled at me. "It really is no trouble. I find healing enjoyable, and to do nothing would feel wrong."

"Unless it's manual labor, of course," I shot back, watching her lips quirk, "That's a-" I coughed, wincing. "Right, throat."

Tiki waggled a finger, eyes sparkling as she sat herself down opposite me. "Supervision is key to such matters. You should feel honored to have the Voice of Naga watching over you." When I started to respond, her sudden glare shut me up. "Let your voice rest. How is your knee feeling?"

My knee was aching, but it was manageable. I was an actor, not a master of charades; I gave her a thumbs up.

"A good answer," she smirked, "You should be able to walk on it- and you may well need to."

Again, couldn't really give an answer. I raised an eyebrow instead, shrugging dramatically to emphasize my question.

"I spoke to Anatoli after the battle," she began, gesturing at the dining area surrounding us, "After a battle, it is traditional for a hearty meal to be prepared. Unfortunately-"

"The chef is out of commission," I speculated, earning a glare from Tiki. I lowered my voice, shrugging apologetically. "And I know how to cook."

She tilted her head,crossing her hands and resting them on her lap. "I offered to cook, and few of the capable sailors are capable of cooking with me."

Her statement caused at least three different hitches in my brain, so I worked my jaw. "You don't actually know how to cook, do you."

"Nothing palatable to humans, no," Tiki nodded, "And not with the supplies available."

I laughed, and when it devolved into a cough, I didn't even mind. "Alright," I continued hoarsely, "Of course I'll help."

[][][][][][][][]

Tiki and I made our way up to the Captain's Quarters, where Boris was housing our injured. About one boat's worth of pirates fled, and I didn't really know what Anatoli did with the other two. I'd gone belowdecks with Tiki before the real cleanup had started, picking up healing supplies from the ship's stock. We only brought one crate each, so if one of us tripped (If I tripped and knocked Tiki over, that is) we wouldn't be in too much trouble.

So, basically, I had no idea what happened to Maria's body, or what Boris was up to. I filed those away for a more appropriate time, because Anna looked exhausted from doing the healing. So exhausted, in fact, that when I put a hand on her shoulder, she barely twitched. "I think you should take a nap," I whispered, "After Tiki gets your hand checked."

"Already healed it," Anna grumbled, stepping out of my grip, "n' Boris's gonna pay me. Shove off."

I looked at Tiki, then back at Anna. "I'm not arguing with you, Anna. Just stick out your hand."

Begrudgingly, Anna sat herself down on a chair. I looked away, drinking in my surroundings. "Not a lot of injuries," I noted, "I think." Seven of Boris' crew were here, all laying on makeshift cots. None of them looked awful, but then again, Anna had been here for at least fifteen minutes. "Good job."

"And here I thought you were not going to argue out of respect for your throat," Tiki mused, holding her staff over Anna's hand, "This might sting. Skin regeneration-"

"-Takes lots of," Anna waved her free hand before covering a yawn, "Lots of energy, tickles. Yeah yeah."

While Tiki handled that, I paced the room, trying not to look creepy while I checked the sailors. "They're-" I coughed, much to my chagrin, "All bandaged. I can replace bandages, some look like they uh, need replacing?"

Turning to me, Anna blinked slowly. "Out of bandages," she muttered, "Get some from downstairs."

"Belowdecks," I blurted, watching as Anna continued to not react, "We already got them from belowdecks."

Tiki rolled her eyes at me, grabbing a bandage from a crate she'd brought. "I will be replacing your bandage, Anna. Then, Andrew will take you to your cabin so you can rest."

"Gettin paaiiid," Anna slurred, "It _does_ tickle. Stayin here."

I looked at her for a long moment before nodding. "The, uh," I flushed, thinking about what Tiki said, "The phrasing's a little awkward, but sure. Why is she acting drunk?"

"In my youth, they called it Mana Exhaustion. I just," Tiki grimaced, "Usually, overuse of magic simply puts you to sleep. Anna, it seems, was sustaining herself partially on post-battle nerves, which I just purged with my healing."

"So you can just get rid of adrenaline with healing," I mused, my mind going in odd directions. "I wonder what skydiving would be like without adrenaline."

I got an odd look from Tiki. "Sky Diving? That seems like a lethal idea."

With a shrug, I looked back at the now unconscious Anna. "So. Do we... just leave her there?" Because there is no way this ends well.

"She should have enough in her to make it belowdecks." Tiki leaned forward, prodding Anna near the collarbone. "That should do it."

Anna _bounced_ out of her seat, shaking her head and blinking owlishly. "I'm awake, I'm awake!" she sputtered, putting a hand to her neck, "Ugh. Pointy fingers."

"Tiki wants you to-" I paused to cough again, raising a hand as it developed into a coughing fit. When it didn't slow down, I pointed at Tiki.

"You are too tired to finish treating these sailors, Anna. Andrew will escort you to your room, and I will finish the job," Tiki said curtly, getting up and moving towards one of the sailors. "Would you be so kind as to pass me a Vulnerary?"

Anna reached into the crate in front of her and handed a flask to Tiki. "I'm perfectly a-awake," she insisted, stifling a yawn, "I said I'd do the job, and I don't leave things unfinished. Andrew, is your-"

"Throat is," I coughed again, lowering my voice to a whisper, "Doing fine. Ish. Look, Anna, you're all over the place. Take a nap, come back after."

Crossing her arms, Anna chewed on her lip. "I feel fine, and again. I'm being paid for-"

I pinched the bridge of my nose, letting out a groan. "I'm supposed to be cooking right now, Anna."

Regarding me with her still sleep-dulled eyes, Anna thought about it. "Make it soup and we have a deal."

"Excellent. Now get out, you are starting to distract me," Tiki said cheerfully, "Escort Anna belowdecks, will you?"

"If anything," I muttered, "Anna's the one doing the escorting. Even if she's half asleep."

Anna worked her jaw, pausing for a moment. "You-"

"Off you go," Tiki continued loudly, "I insist."

Exchanging glances with Anna, I confirmed that she also saw Tiki's slightly fanged smile. "Off we go."

[][][][][][][][]

Anna's energy lasted approximately ten steps.

She didn't yawn and slouch so much as groan and drop straight into my side. Luckily, she was on my _good_ side- the side with a knee that didn't make me wince if I stomped a little bit. Flushing a bit, I brought her arm up around my shoulder. "Anna," I murmured, leaning a bit as she flopped forwards, "This isn't going to work."

"Nah," she shot back tiredly, "You're sturdy enough. Just get a bit of... combat training in and you'll be golden."

She leaned away from me, trying to make space. I bit back a comment about weight, because I had no idea how she'd take it. "I mean that one of my knees isn't great, and we need to go down a set of stairs."

Nodding slowly, Anna thought about that. "Maybe I did overdo it on the healing, but Anatoli's offer was lucrative."

"How nice of you," I jibed, steadying myself, "Okay, Anna, I need you to put more of your weight on the railing... uh," I coughed again, trying to bridge my thoughts as Anna's fingers tensed around my shoulder. "You're not usually this wobbly when you're tired. Or this, you know, touchy."

Snorting, Anna released her grip on me and shifted her weight, stabilizing. "Mana Exhaustion is like being drunk, but worse."

"Do you even drink?" I mused, stepping down the stairs beside her. "I thought you didn't drink."

"I drink for my birthday," she supplied, stifling a yawn, "Not really safe otherwise."

She _was_ a woman who usually travelled alone, so drinking probably was an awful idea. "That makes sense. I don't like to drink, it's..." I paused. "Someone in my family drank a little too much."

Anna frowned, working her jaw as we finally made our way down the stairs. "I see."

"Are you good to make it from here?" I gestured to the cabin door. "Tiki wanted me to 'escort you to your room' but that makes me kind of-"

"Lady Tiki needs to work on her phrasing," Anna agreed, tottering slightly as she made it to the cabin door, "I'm good."

"I'll get on that soup cooking now, then," I shrugged, coughing and looking at my feet for a moment.

With mussed hair and bags under her eyes, Anna gave me a weary smile. "Well, there's that to look forward to. Thank you, Andrew."

I felt a bit overheated as I smiled back, quirking a grin as best I could manage. "It's my pleasure, Anna. I owe you."

"Consider it repaid when I get that soup," Anna turned away, entering her cabin with barely a sound.

It took me longer than I'd like to admit to collect myself after that, but I had work to do.

Even if it was making soup, rather than stir fry.

[][][][][][][][]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is called Pirates and Rest on FFnet. It is now Pirates! here, because I said so.


	9. Ends and Beginnings

The distant port town was aflame with sunset light, glittering above crimson waves. Salty wind rolled across the deck, carrying the chattering of gulls with it. The countless docked boats made for a sea of red crosses, through which I could see flickers of movement. A port town in Plegia, with the Plegian war about to start. Or it's started already, which would be bad. I shook my head, closing my eyes. I could hear the murmur of commerce- and more importantly, the promise of _land_.

"I'm sick of the ocean," I grumbled to myself, leaning against the prow. A thousand different thoughts ran at the back of my mind, trying to rush out. They didn't get anywhere, and I was left with a jumbled, meaningless mess of words.

Glancing behind me, I saw the sailors scurrying about, preparing to dock. I didn't really know what that meant- Anatoli had distractedly answered me in a language that sounded vaguely Russian-but it was important work and involved moving a lot of heavy things. At the fringes of my vision, I could just barely catch Anna sitting on one of the crossbeams of the mast, reading a book of some sort.

Looking back at the port, I let out a long sigh. What happens if the war's already started? What if Emmeryn's already dead? What if... what if everything just doesn't work out? What if Anna changes her mind and just dumps me by the roadside?

I'd been trying to _not_ think about the whole thing, honestly. My worries worked on tying a knot out of my stomach, finally getting their chance to shine.

"You seem nervous, Andrew." That'd be Tiki. I didn't hear or see her approaching, but then again, that seemed to happen a lot.

"I-" I turned my head to look at her. Deep breaths, Andrew- think about calming things. You've kept it together for this long, after all. Think about the beach _that you'll never see again_ or the...

"Yeah," I gritted out, feeling at once jittery and exhausted. "I think I am." I looked away, watching the waves and the approaching port. It didn't help much.

"I will not pry," she began, much to my relief, "But I will listen."

"I'll warn you, I talk a lot," I joked, forcing a chuckle.

"Listening takes little effort, Andrew." She drummed her fingers on the railing, "Speak your mind."

Breathe in, breathe out. Let the tension ease, let the weight in my stomach ease for just a moment. "I'm an actor, Tiki- a thespian. Not even a very good one, if you ask me," I shrugged, "Only ever did minor roles. I'm an engineer as well, if that means anything."

Tiki nodded, but remained silent. Figures.

"Point is, I have no idea what I'm doing," I began quietly, feeling the knot ache, "I've just been... I don't know. I'm here now, and I don't really want to be."

"I think I understand," Tiki replied, just as quietly.

The tension in my body eased, ever so slightly. I smiled. "Thanks, Tiki."

[][][][][][][][]

Our boat drifted docked under silvery moonlight and bright stars. Sailors moved swiftly, some jumping the gap to the long wooden dock as others slung ropes at them. Directed by Boris and Artyom, the sailors flitted between pools of torchlight- bringing crates from belowdecks and stacking them in neat clusters. Amid that hustle and bustle, I seated myself on a crate just outside of the flow of traffic.

Following close on the heels of a sailor carrying a particularly large crate, I saw Anna make her way up the stairs from belowdecks. The bright moonlight and amber torchlight made her eyes shine. "Well, we're here," she remarked, finding a crate slightly larger than mine to sit on, "And tomorrow, we'll be able to turn a profit on that tea." She flashed a grin at me, putting a finger to her chin.

I shrugged, shifting in place. "Sounds good, I guess." Who knows? Maybe I wouldn't have to stick my fingers in the war itself. That'd be nice.

"I think we should sell the bulk of our tea at port, taking a selection up north to Ferox," she started suddenly, causing my thoughts to stall, "I always heard bulk green leaf sells for forty copper a stone in Plegia at lowest, and a crate is about two stone."

Math, I can deal with math. "And how many crates of green tea did we buy?"

Her mouth twitched, shifting into a sly smirk set below sparkling eyes. "Hold your horses, Andrew," she stopped me with a raised finger, using her other hand to pull out a thick leather bound book. She flipped it open, frowned, then flipped a few pages back before nodding in satisfaction. "Last time there was a drought down south in Valm, the price of tea went up from... no, they used..."

Watching as she stuck her tongue out, cogs turning in her head, I smiled. I'd never really seen her doing the other, harder part of her job- economics. Maybe I could help her out with that, if she wasn't brilliant with it already. Which she probably was. Leaning forward, I peered at the book- it was a ledger of transactions on the right-hand page, the table clearly printed with a printing press of sorts. Good to know they had those, because I hadn't even thought to ask before. The left-hand page was filled with neat, flowing script, too dense for me to read. Maybe a journal-ledger of sorts?

Wait, there was something in front of _Anna_ in her ledger... M-

I winced, jerking back as Anna flicked me in the nose. "Andrew," She said sternly, "That's private."

"Sorry, I didn't mean-" I coughed as she raised an eyebrow. "Well, I _did_ mean to look at it, but I guess I wasn't thinking," I took a moment to digest my own thoughts, letting a more coherent one rise to the surface. "So you have printing presses, huh?"

Anna snorted, rolling her eyes. "How primitive do you think we are? We've had that for centuries."

One of my favorite history teachers had this whole _lecture_ about how important the printing press was. Specifically, how it helped the reformation of the Church and all that stuff. Guess that didn't happen here. "We've.. well," I managed a smirk, "You're a bit backwards in comparison to where I'm from."

"If we can't market that then I'm a failure as a merchant," Anna nodded, re-opening her ledger and leafing through it. "When there was a shortage, prices over in Valm went up to about ten copper a stone, which is a fifty percent increase in charge for suppliers from six copper straight from the farms." She smiled, eyes glittering like rubies.

I raised a finger. "That's more like sixty-six percent, Anna," I hesitated, "Are you lowballing?"

She stopped in her mental tracks, working her jaw. Her expression was difficult to read- was she upset with me? "Low... balling?"

Oh, good, she wasn't. I stifled a relieved chuckle, letting out a snort as I dug through my memories. "Lowballing is when you go for a low starting price or value so you can spike it later," I explained as she bit on her lip a bit, "You're trying to compare percent increases in price on both sides of the pond, right?"

"I like that term, low-balling," Anna grinned, "Nice catch, Andrew."

I couldn't help it. That pun was just _so awful_. Laughter seared its way through my chest, untangling a hundred worries along the way. "Low _ball_ ing, nice _catch_ ," I chuckled, simmering down slightly as Anna gave me a confused expression.

"...You're weird, as usual," she mused, her tone reminding me of how a scientist would observe the sunrise, "At least it's consistent, right?"

With a shrug, I let out a content sigh. "I missed this," I said quietly, setting back into place, "You know, just talking."

Anna's twinkling eyes were enough of an answer as she clapped her hands together, putting a finger back on her chin. "Right, as we were _saying_ ," she levelled a good-natured glare at me, "And yes, you were right, I was trying to compare percentile increases..."

Her hand lifted off the ledger as she chewed on her lip. I let her continue, because I'd derailed her more than enough at this point. Even if it was fun. "And last time we had a _sixty-six_ percent increase in Valm, low-balled- oh, I'm going to use that a lot-to fifty percent, resellers up north- near the port we were at?-were willing to go no lower than eight coppers a stone. Now, Len'fi was willing to part with his stock at a discount of seven a stone, so he probably bought them at five."

Resting my chin in my hands, I nodded. It wasn't hard to grasp as information goes, she was just skipping steps- but I figured it out. "And with Walhart's new regs, how much do you expect prices to rise?"

"We haven't gotten there yet, Andrew!" Anna waggled a finger, "I'm trying to work out-"

"How much the cost rises in Plegia, as a baseline? Well, if you have all this data, we could probably work out a lower estimate," I confirmed, raising a hand as Anna lowered her finger, "I can do math, Anna, so let me help here. You said Plegia bought it for fourteen-"

" _Forty_ copper a stone, Andrew, we aren't peasants," she interjected, "With _your_ markup we'd barely recoup _your_ transport costs and resale taxes, let alone all three of us." All three of us. That's nice to hear.

"And you're talking about reselling something at..." I frowned, doing a bit of mental math, "About _five hundred and seventeen_ percent of what you bought it for, at minimum."

"No, Andrew, I'm talking about selling it at five hundred and _seventy_ percent markup. Seventy two?" Anna mused, "I don't have my abacus with me. Continue!" She grinned, gesturing with her chin.

She had an abacus, awesome. Always wanted to learn how to use one. "Let's assume that when prices went up in Valm to ten copper- a two thirds increase- prices here in Plegia went up by a flat four copper. Absolute minimum. That leaves us with, uh," I took a sharp breath in, trying to figure out where the _hell_ my brain was going. I knew I had a point to this. "Uh. Lost my train of thought." This was one of those problems I'd like a blackboard for. Or paper and a calculator.

Anna snorted ungracefully. "Just assume a one to one cost increase, don't try and put a percent over a number like that. You'll just confuse both of us."

Mentally, I wondered if chalk existed yet, and if not, if I could _invent_ it. Something about gypsum and hot water? "So we're looking at a three copper difference per stone, meaning that maybe we can lowball this at forty three copper a stone of tea. But that's-"

"A useless number, mhm," Anna agreed, catching my drift, "Because we're running almost entirely on faith and assumptions. What I _do_ know is that Walhart's instituting a sliding land tax to screw over the daimyos and get the peasants on his side, but what's _going_ to happen is..."

[][][][][][][][]

Dawn broke, a lancing edge of gold against the paling sky. The new day's light filtered through rows of sea-worn buildings, glittering against the waves and casting long shadows.

"Is end of our time together, eh?" Boris smiled, stroking his beard as he stuck out a hand. "Was good to see Anna again, good to see Anna's friends."

This day found us (Me, Anna, and Tiki) standing at the end of the dock, tea crates stacked in a cart. Tiki was already halfway to dozing, but by her own admission she would never skip saying goodbye. And then, of course, she fell asleep again. I woke her up in time, though. She smiled, bravely taking the outstretched hand and shaking it. "It was a pleasure to ride aboard your vessel, Captain Boris. Perhaps we will meet again- I would love to hear more about your homeland."

"Ah! No, was _my_ pleasure. To have," his eyes twinkled, and I just barely caught them twitching as he scanned our surroundings. "To have such fame on ship is once-in-lifetime experience! Good winds to you, my friend. Andrew," he continued, releasing Tiki's hand and turning to face me, "Stay strong, eh?"

Shrugging, I accepted Boris' handshake and winced as his hand nearly crushed mine. "I wasn't strong to begin with- I'm an actor, not a fighter." I had fought and killed someone, but I tried to forget about that. The crew had done an excellent job cleaning up, so it only pestered me in the occasional nightmare.

There was an unreadable gleam in his eyes as he grinned, releasing my hand and clapping me on the shoulder. It was an odd motion- as much as Boris was a mountain to his surroundings, he was barely taller than me. I'm not used to that.

"Fighting different from strength. Strength come from _here_ ," he emphasized, thumping his chest. "Stay strong, friend. Anna-" he once again turned, this time to Anna.

Anna sighed, rolling her eyes. "It was nice to see you again, Boris. Once this all cools off, I'll hitch a ride back to Valm with you. How does that sound?"

I exchanged a curious glance with Tiki. She shrugged slightly, lips twitching, but my attention was torn back to Boris as he laughed. "Good, good," he began, stepping forward-

Wrapping Anna in a _hug_ , of all things. His huge, white-coated form starkly contrasted her bright red hair and equally red outfit. She huffed, clearly irritated, but didn't make a move to stab Boris. " _Boris_ ," she hissed, "Please stop."

Boris chuckled again, releasing Anna and stepping back. "Old friends get hug, Anna. Is not new thing. Now, friends," he continued, clapping his hands together, "Must go now. Clients are not nice people, is best if you are not seen, yes?" He made a shooing motion with his hands before turning around. "Good luck and fair winds, friends!" White coat drifting in the morning breeze, the Captain walked away without another word. There was a slight pang in my chest, but his parting words cut through the feeling like a knife through butter.

I dug through my memories and came up empty-handed. Turning to Anna, I felt my stomach wrap itself up in nerves- she'd paled, eyes cold and sharp. "Who's his client, Anna?"

"Oh, _Naga_ ," she cursed, twisting my nerves even further, "We need to go." Without another word, she took a step back, pivoted, and was at the reins of the cart in a heartbeat.

Tiki raised an eyebrow, but seemed less than amused. We followed Anna onto the cart- I got up next to her, and Tiki slipped into the back. Naga isn't exactly popular here, after all. "I am unsure if saying her name in vain is a curse this century. You are absolved of it, in any case- what has you so concerned?"

Anna flicked the reins, and the cart started clatter through the slowly-populating harborside. "Gangrel, Andrew."

Oh. Right. "Christ, how did I forget?" I cursed, wishing I had something to do with my hands. I turned so I could see Tiki out of one eye. "Gangrel's the king of Plegia, and, well."

"That would do it," Tiki agreed, tilting her head. "It is tragic that the Grimleal have become so influential- though the Crusade no doubt encouraged hate for Naga. Perhaps we should acquire a cloak that hides my identity?"

"I'm not willing to cause a national incident, so yes," Anna nodded, looking straight ahead, "And since this was _your_ idea, Andrew, you're in charge of that. The market should have protective wear for desert travel. If they ask for more than two silver, they're trying to short-change you."

Blinking, I saw Anna put a hand in a pocket and come out with four silver. "You're trusting me with money?" I grinned weakly, "Wow, I'm really moving up in the world."

Tiki chuckled, stifling a yawn. "Being granted responsibility is a double edged sword, Andrew. Wield it wisely."

I laughed a bit at that, feeling the knot in my stomach unwind as I accepted the money from Anna. She rolled her eyes, but the the way her mouth twitched told me a different story. "Wise words, and way too dramatic for pocket change. See the gap in the buildings?" Anna pointed with her now-free hand, glancing over at me. "I'll drop you there. You can see the market from there, look for someone with camels. They usually sell desert gear, unsurprisingly. When you've picked up the cloak, come back to this road and go three houses down- my family owns a warehouse, that's where I'll be."

That's a lot more words than usual. I nodded, digesting it carefully. Even though this was essentially a shopping run, it made me feel jittery. "Two silvers for a cloak, but I have four. Is that for a tax, or a bribe?"

"Bribe," Anna replied curtly, "If a guard asks where your papers are, they're lying, Plegia has no entry papers. Pay them, I'd rather not have to heal bruises."

I felt distinctly uncomfortable, but I forced it back down and forced a smile. "If I couldn't find _some_ way to talk myself out of getting mugged, how am I supposed to help you talk people out of their money?"

 _That_ made her laugh, and I felt the tension ease. "Now there's a skill to pay the bills, Andrew. This could be even more lucrative than expected!" She smiled at me, and I smiled back.

There was a pause, and I realized the cart had stopped moving. I could see rows of stalls down the road, and the chatter of early morning commerce slipped in with the crashing waves. With the Sun cresting over distant dunes to frame it all, it made me wish I was a painter again. "Wow, that's pretty," I said, every so insightfully, "You were right about the views, Anna."

"Andrew," Tiki commented, audibly amused, "That is your cue to get off the cart."

Anna raised an eyebrow at me, and I coughed to hide my flush. "Woolgathering. Right, I'll get on with it." I quickly dismounted the cart, checking to make sure _The Duke_ was sheathed at my hip, and nodded at Anna. "See you at the warehouse!" I waved at them, slipping past the horse and allowing the cart to start again. Anna waved back absently, focused on the road again.

In a heartbeat, I was alone in another world.

[][][][][][][][]

The chatter of early buyers and even earlier merchants was comforting. I slipped through the stalls, nerves strung like a violin and my stomach twisted in a knot of hot iron, using the meaningless bartering to push out everything else mentally. The stalls were brightly colored and richly adorned, displaying trinkets, spices, and foods I barely recognized. Though there were many others here, scouting the wares of, it wasn't enough to avoid the eyes of every merchant I passed.

I was used to that, I reminded myself. "I'm a thespian, an actor. I got paid for people to stare at me." Not much money, obviously. It was a small troupe, and I did it for the fun of it. But I still got paid for it, and that's the important part.

So I shouldn't be nervous right now, shouldn't feel so watched in the wrong way. Everywhere I turned, I felt followed. Even as I walked through the crowd, I was alone.

"Simple task," I muttered, trying to untie the knot in my stomach, "Just get it over with, Andrew."

Ah! There. At the end of the row, I finally spotted my goal. There was a stall with a camel next to it (Anna was on point, once again), and the wares seemed to be mostly headwraps and _cloaks_.

With minimal jostling, I found myself in front of the stall. I couldn't tell much about the merchant- their face was obscured by a headwrap and fabric mask, while their body was hidden by a large cloak. As I collected myself, I noticed they were on the tall side, and that their eyes were a deep grey-blue that was either cutting into my soul or trying to find my wallet.

Merchants usually talk to the buyers, right? That's what I remember from... pretty much every medieval setting, even if this isn't quite the right time period. The silence, in defiance of that, dragged on. I coughed politely, and their gaze intensified.

"Um," I started, wincing as my throat constricted, "I'm looking to buy a cloak- someone about yea high. It needs a hood and a loose back, this person has _really_ long hair." I made a gesture, giving a rough guess at Tiki's height with one hand. Absently, I wondered how she'd fit that massive ponytail in the cloak. While I suspected she'd just put her hair down, I'd have to deal with her resemblance to Naga again.

The merchant looked at me for a long moment, then shrugged. "Cloaks," they said, voice dry but clearly feminine, "I have cloaks," they continued, stepping to the side and towards their camel.

"I can see that," I agreed, squaring my shoulders. I felt a little less uncomfortable- this person seemed out of sorts, so at least I wasn't the only one. Leaning into my now somewhat rusty acting skills, I called upon the Duke. Also, wow, I've been here for a month. "I trust they are suitable for long journeys? I won't spend my coin on low-quality products."

She looked vaguely insulted, crossing her arms. "I'll have you-" she coughed, voice shifting from hoarse to dry, "I'll have you know this is _high quality_ fabric, loomed by the masters in Themis." And with that, she turned around and grabbed a large bag that was hanging off the camel.

"I mean no insult," I assured her, hoping I sounded more confident than I felt, "From Themis, you say? Interesting." Themis was important to the plot of the game _somehow_. Couldn't recall off the top of my head, but I filed it away for later.

The merchant unbuckled the bag and started sifting through it, and I raised an eyebrow. "You have cloaks on display," I started, gesturing at the cloaks hanging at the back of her stall, "None in the size I asked, I suppose?"

"They're in the," she grunted, pulling out a folded square of whitish fabric, "Right size. Just need one with a bigger hood for the hair."

"And you have cloaks prepared for that? Impressive," I nodded, "And this would be the cloak?"

"Yes," they replied curtly, allowing the cloak to unfold. By my inexpert eye, it looked okay for Tiki. White would be good for the hot weather, too. "Three silvers."

I raised an eyebrow. "My travelling companion, Anna," I started, watching the merchant stiffen- so the Annas _are_ well known, good. "Specifically noted they were worth less than that. Two silver."

"An Anna is in town," the merchant said quietly, looking down. They stuck out a hand, absently refolding the cloak with the other. Which was impressive- one handed folding is basically witchcraft. "I know an Anna. Are they at the warehouse?"

Working my jaw, handed the woman two silvers and took the cloak. "Asking personal details from a stranger, are we?"

That got me another long, piercing stare from the merchant. Her stormy eyes twitched, and her posture slumped. "Very well. Have a good day, sir."

I nodded, feeling a little awkward and a lot less nervous as I stepped away. "And a good day to you, madam."

"Well," I murmured, slipping back into the crowd, "I got all nervous for nothing."

Someone yelped- maybe the merchant?- and the knot of nerves returned. Tensing, I put a hand on the pommel of my sword-

There was a blur of black, a _whoosh_ of air, and a sharp pain bloomed in the back of my head. And then, nothing.

{}{}{Anna}{}{}

The Anna Family had warehouses all across Archanea, the product of generations of sound investments and war profiteering. While I hadn't been to one in a while, it still made me feel all warm and fuzzy to hear the _click_ as the key slid into the lock. The huge doors swung open soundlessly, as they should. A few stacks of neatly labelled crates sat in the corner, which meant one of my siblings was planning to drop by. Maybe in the next few months, but not close enough to wait around.

Andrew should've found a seller by now. It took me a few minutes to find the key, so- maybe ten more minutes until he was back. Less, probably. With his penchant for tangents, though, who knows how long it would take?

The cobbled floor was lit by a few squares of light pouring through the back windows, each patch revealing only a thin layer of dust. Not enough for-

Lady Tiki, of course, chose that moment to sneeze. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a flicker of whitish flame from her nostrils. "Lady Tiki," I said quietly, "Please don't burn down my warehouse."

"Apologies," she sniffed, slipping inside and out of sight of the main road, "I was unprepared."

"Whatever," I waved it off, letting out a long sigh. Lady Tiki was going to be the death of me someday, if Andrew's weirdness didn't get to me first. He addressed her without _any_ sort of respect for station, which is heretical pretty much everywhere.

Maybe not in Plegia, actually. "Should we start getting crates off the cart, Anna?" Lady Tiki asked, tilting her head as she leaned up against the front wall, "If we walk the cart inside, I can assist without drawing attention."

"Sure, we can do that," I agreed, heading out to grab the cart. "Don't do anything stupid."

Lady Tiki snorted amusedly. "I have had millennia to get such things out of my system, Anna." That doesn't answer the question, but it's exactly the sort of answer I've come to expect from her. Rather than dignify her comment with an answer, I rolled my eyes and got on with it.

The horse didn't much like going inside, for whatever reason, but that wasn't my problem. And, once we had the warehouse doors closed, I felt a little less exposed. Lady Tiki moved quickly to the back, and took a crate with little effort. "Look at me, getting the Voice of Naga to do manual labor," I chuckled, "Set those in the corner- left, front corner if you're facing the doors."

"I imagine that my rates would be untenable for most royalty," Lady Tiki nodded, setting the crate down neatly as I grabbed another, "What would they even use me for? A dragon-drawn carriage?"

Well now that image is in my head. I snorted, picturing some snooty noble- Virion, obviously-sitting in a carriage drawn by dragons. Cherche was there too, browbeating Virion for wasting even more money. I did enjoy that trait of his, and it had made me quite a bit richer over the years. "I'll be your manager, as long as I get a cut," I nodded, "Not sure who is heretical enough _and_ rich enough to hire the Voice of Naga, though."

Lady Tiki nodded as she strode past me in the opposite direction, going for another crate. "Perhaps-"

 _Thump_. _Thump_.

I never did find out what she was going to say. Someone was knocking on my warehouse doors. I cleared my throat. "Who is it?" I shouted, "I know you're eager to buy, but-"

The voice was muffled by the wooden door, dry, and definitely a woman's. I couldn't place the accent exactly. "Ah, so you _are_ here," they said loudly, "Would you happen to," they coughed, giving me time to exchange confused glances with Lady Tiki, "Would you happen to know a very tall man who wanted to buy a cloak?"

"That's oddly specific," I responded, just as loudly, "Did he get into trouble?" Because I _swear_ , if he started costing me money... He wasn't the kind to start fights though. How did he manage to find trouble so easily?

"Good! No, bad," they corrected themselves, "Your friend was taken by Grimleal. Thought you'd want to know."

Ah.

That was problematic.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}


	10. Partial Division

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As opposed to division with remainders.

Lightning, for a heartbeat, cast the deck of the ship in stark white relief. It glinted on the rain and beamed off the slicked wood.

Thunder, for an endless moment, cowed the furious patter of heavy rain, roaring in defiance.

And then, darkness.

The air was cold but stale, pressing in on all sides as I dragged myself through the pitch-oil shadows of the night. My sword, bitter and biting as ice, was frozen in my grip. Each footstep came with the _clack_ of sword-steel on wood, finding my path as a blind man would. I tried to call out, but in the endless rain my voice found no purchase.

A scraping of leather on wet planks grew behind me, quiet but echoing through the deafening _wall_ of the storm's sound. A pulsing, ragged intake of breath- like an axe being ripped from a lung.

And then, a rasping voice. Like sand, rushing through my ears and grinding at my thoughts.

 _You have_ _nothing_ _here_.

I pushed onwards, one foot in front of the other, sword making a _thunk_ as its tip entered the wood. My boots struggled to find their grip on the ever more slick ship, practically dragging myself by swordpoint.

_Why are you still here, Andrew?_

A flash of lightning. The prow of the ship was so close now, but no closer than the breathing, scraping _thing_ behind me.

_Because you couldn't kill a bandit, Andrew?_

I found my voice, briefly. "I didn't need to," I whispered.

_Why is this so important to you?_

As quickly as it had come, my voice was gone. The breathing was close now.

_You are a stranger, after all._

My sword met something soft, sinking in slowly but sliding easily. A flicker of light, and I saw-

A bandit, sword buried in his chest. His eyes gleamed with fear and rage, a monstrous sneer on his face.

_I see you._

I turned, arms trembling and heart frozen. A hulking figure, eyes glowing red through a six-eyed mask of gold. It lifted a blackened hand, reaching out-

In the sky, a flicker of bluish light-

[][][][][][][][]

I woke with a gasp, heartbeat ragged as I grasped for breath. Bright, yellow-white light crashed into my eyes, forcing them closed as the sensations of reality slowly asserted themselves.

Save for the clattering of wooden wheels, familiar yet strange, nothing about this felt _right._ I took a long, deep breath, trying to ignore how it shuddered, and called my memories to the forefront. "Ah," I murmured, feeling a dull throb at the back of my skull, "So that's what..."

The black knot in my stomach folded on itself, solidifying into a pervasive ache that made even sitting feel uncomfortable. Another breath, this one longer, and I felt a hot-dry wind wash across my face. Flecks of sand came with it, and when I brought my hands up I felt the coarse, scratchy rope binding my wrists. I'd been kidnapped, or something.

Finally, I opened my eyes again. I instantly wanted to shut them, but I grit my teeth and drank in my surroundings. My back was to a wooden panel, a wall for the dry wooden cart I was in. Out the back, gleaming in noonday heat, was a winding cobble road dividing sandy desert and scrubbish greenery. Three soldiers, all on horses, obscured further detail, but it told me the Plegians had taken me.

As if there was any doubt, honestly. A stray thread of thought drifted by, and I wondered if this was the road Anna was planning on travelling. Maybe I'd run into her again.

The wagon clattered again, and I winced as some bump in the road threw my head against the coarse wood. Nobody would be healing _that_ bruise, I was certain. Why was I even taken? Did future Robin want to nip something in the bud? Maybe it was all a coincidence. I'd been a bit too lucky so far, anyways.

Deep breaths, Andrew. I shut my eyes, taking another draw of the dry desert air, seeking to banish the rising worries. It didn't work.

There's a sort of sixth or seventh sense you develop as an actor- a tingling feeling that you have an audience, and they're waiting for your next line. It stirred in me, reaching past the black ache that clawed at my insides, and forced my eyes open. One of the guards was watching me, observing me closely. Parched lips parted, but my throat constricted as I tried to speak. The painful ache in my stomach had climbed beyond my chest and reached my head, and seemed determined to render me mute.

The Duke, the actor in me mused, had no such problems. So, over the course of countless heartbeats- seconds, minutes, hours, who knows?-I found my courage and _pulled_ on it. Straight posture, squared shoulders, clear throat to avoid awkward pauses.

"I don't suppose-" I began, raising the volume and slowly derusting the pitch as I went, "You fine gentlemen wouldn't happen to have any water, would you? I'm parched." Not a good delivery, honestly. I felt it waver, and wondered what had possessed me to try _acting_ while under guard.

I felt more eyes on me, but I was more interested in the one who'd been watching before. Anxiety mounted, wrapping itself around my heart with a barbed rope, and I prayed those thoughts weren't bleeding into my expression.

That guard worked their jaw, looking ahead and beyond me to what I assumed was the cart driver. "Sir, I-"

"The prisoner," a dry voice clipped, "Gets water on the schedule we discussed. No tricks, no deception. As for you, _prisoner_ , don't try anything _clever_."

Digesting that, I worked my jaw and set my mind loose to speculate. And, hopefully, to keep it away from the burning, cutting feeling in my chest. High Command- Aversa, some generals, King Gangrel... but Gangrel was at port, right? So why... "Wasn't," I winced as my voice wavered, "Wasn't planning on it. Big fan of, uh, being alive and intact."

"Good," that same voice replied, sounding somewhat relieved. "Let's see if it stays that way. Third Company has a new pet, and we wouldn't want any _accidents_ , would we?"

Oh, he was _eager_. Great. A pet, though. Something scratched at the back of my thoughts, and I frowned. The guards behind the cart reminded me of nosy neighbors- curious, inquisitive, and peering over the fence for some fresh gossip. "Well, wouldn't want that, uh," I agreed readily, "What _kind_ of pet, though?"

"Even dances, the lucky bastards..." one of the guards grumbled, and I strained my ears to pick up the rest.

"None of your damn business, _prisoner_ ," bit that dry voice, and I huffed. I wasn't a good planner, really, but just poking at what I could was a good distraction.

Of course, with the conversation shut down, I was left to my thoughts again. Fragments of my dream surfaced, each shard crisp and sharp like broken glass as it seared itself into my mounting worries.

So I stared into the empty desert, watching the day burn itself out as we clattered endlessly along that road.

At least, I reflected, I hadn't woken up to a Skyrim reference.

[][][][][][][][]

It didn't take me long to figure out I'd been taken by the Grimleal. I kind of wished that I didn't know- it would be easier to cope with.

The game lore mostly referred to the Grimleal as a dark cult serving Grima, one willing to breed a vessel for Grima. Tharja and Henry were part of it, but they weren't stellar examples of sanity. Actually, they were good examples of just how screwed I was. Even as the Sun set on my first day captured, I was burrowing deeper into my memories- some fragment of lore, some tiny offhand comment; anything that might give me leverage here. What I knew was enough to identify the symbol of Grima on someone's coat, and very little else.

Hell, I didn't even know _why_ they had taken me. Tiki might come after me, but Anna... Something twinged in my gut as I thought about it. I couldn't tell what went on in Anna's head, really. To some degree I could guess what was going on at surface level, but almost everything she'd done had been done in self defense or for money. Hopefully I was valuable enough to merit saving.

The cadence of wooden wheels stopped, replaced by a sudden and deafening silence. It was short lived, but more than enough to let darker thoughts creep in as I listened to my heartbeat. A guard dismounted in a jangling of metal, clomping up to the back of the cart and nodding. "Off, Prisoner."

A smarmy part of me wanted to clarify what he meant, but this wasn't the situation for it. I nodded, unsteadily rising (with bound hands, it's surprisingly hard) and dropping off the back. One of my knees buckled, and I winced as the soldier roughly yanked me back up by the crook of my shoulder. "No need for that," I grumbled, "Can't exactly run away, can I?"

The guard grunted, gesturing outwards. "Camp, in the cages."

"Man of few words, I see," I reflected quietly, following his gesture. The road ahead was blocked by the stereotypical wooden spikes you see around encampments, and beyond it, a very stereotypical encampment. Rows of tents, lit by amber firelight and the occasional torch, and at the center, a very large tent. It had a red flag stuck on it, too- which I guessed was the Plegian flag, or possibly the Grimleal flag? It was a plumed helmet set in front of crossed spears, barely visible in the firelight as it drifted in a faint breeze.

I did not, however, see the promised cages. The soldier seemed to, though; he was shoving me along roughly, and I did my best to avoid stumbling. Or maybe he knew as little as I did. I snorted at the thought.

"What?"

I glanced over my shoulder, and considered my options. "Just amused, I guess," I replied honestly, following it up with something a bit less honest, "I came into Plegia and ended up in a cart. Guess I'm popular here."

"Huh," he grunted.

It took me a moment to realize he wasn't going to elaborate, and in that moment I discovered he knew where the cages were. As we approached the big central tent, a row of ten wooden cages revealed themselves, plus one metal one at the end. Lovely accommodations.

Now we were entering the... well, the big area in front of the big tent. Do you call those pavilions? Or were those just big open-air tents? I went with calling it a main square, or maybe the 'main big space'. At least it kept my mind occupied and away from dark thoughts.

The Main Big Space was mostly empty, save for a few guards on duty. I could hear soldiers carousing from all directions, and under it the soft murmur of conversation from inside the big tent, which I needed a name for. My sense of humor was really showing up today, I realized, pity Anna isn't here to hear it. Then again, she'd just call me strange and flick me on the nose. "Lovely place you've got here," I noted, "I'd make a joke, but it would probably get me stabbed."

"Yeah," the guard agreed. Good talk.

The conversation in the tent halted, and there was a rustling of fabric. "Well, well, well," said a strangely familiar voice, "Look who it is."

I turned, and the aching nerves in my body froze solid. Two burning red eyes bored straight into mine, dripping frost down my spine and grasping roughly at my thoughts. My courage failed me utterly as I saw white skin, whiter hair, and a very familiar robe. Not long after, my words failed me as well.

Robin, or more precisely, the Hierophant, stalked towards me with a unnatural grin. "Sir Andrew the Lost. It's been too long, hasn't it?"

{}{}{Anna}{}{}

I don't treat people to meals.

I'm a travelling merchant, an honest conwoman looking for wealth and saving as much as possible. Sitting down for a meal with someone, and _paying_ for it, sounds suspiciously like charity. Lady Tiki and Andrew stood to make me large amounts of money- and Andrew already had me a profit with those tea leaves- and I'd just deduct their meals from their final share of revenue. More accurately, I'd deduct the costs from _Andrew_ 's cut, and then hand it to Lady Tiki. Because, of course, Andrew had gotten himself abducted.

This is why I don't travel with partners. They're not responsible enough to stick around, or they find some _nice_ thing to do that ends up getting them killed or arrested.

I shuddered at the thought, digging into my very free leafy meal at the local tavern. "You're too kind," I said smoothly, meeting that strange merchant's eyes, "Or Andrew overpaid you. Which is it?"

The woman who told us of Andrew's kidnapping insisted that she take us to dinner- though she only insisted after catching sight of Tiki. At least Andrew'd left the cloak behind, so we could eat in relative peace. She inspected me with a merchant's keen gaze, grey-blue eyes scanning me and recognizing several things. Couldn't tell what, unfortunately; they'd kept their face wrapped in fabric, moving it only slightly to put in nibbles of her own salad.

If I hadn't spent ten years in Valm, which has at least three clans of assassins (I think they called themselves Ninja), that would have been enough to give up on inspecting her. But, obviously, I did spend ten years in Valm with Ninjas, some of which had tried to con me employing multiple disguises. This woman, this merchant, knew her business, but she was _young_ , which meant innocent and gullible. No doubt they felt responsible for Andrew's kidnapping. If I had a gold coin for every kidnapping or assassination I'd seen, I'd be a much richer woman.

Lady Tiki frowned, staring down at her entire roast chicken. "Perhaps it is an apology. Though perhaps we should be in pursuit, rather than enjoying a meal?"

I scoffed, chewing and swallowing a bite of my (surprisingly fresh) salad. "La-" I paused for a moment and shrugged. "Look, it's the Grimleal. They're funded by the monarchy of Plegia, and I'm fairly certain they're about to be at war if they aren't already. I for one enjoy living. Kid," I began, watching their eyes snap back into focus, "You haven't told us why you're here."

"Yes, that," the woman rambled, fumbling with her fork, "Well, um," she coughed, clearing some of the roughness from her voice, "I met a woman on the road. I think she was a Lord or something, can you believe that? Long blue hair, had a mask, called herself Marth. Said she was searching for 'Sir Andrew', and that man looked just like what Marth described."

Lady Tiki snapped upwards, eyes glittering like cut emeralds. "Mar- ahem, _Marth_ was not a woman."

Waggling my fork at the merchant, I shrugged. "Something you said was a lie, but I can't tell what. Anyways, you felt bad and now you're giving me a free dinner. What's the catch?" Because there _had_ to be a catch.

The woman flinched, looking back down. "I-I don't know. I thought it was the right thing to do- this is my fault, after all. I should have said something earlier, when I saw the Grimleal following him. And..." she trailed off, and the tiny strip of skin below her eyes went subtly red. She was flushing; something personal must be involved. That makes more sense. "Also, I know the Anna family. It's," she forced a chuckle, "It's always good to see a familiar face."

"And nothing," Lady Tiki remarked, "To do with my status?" She shook her head, inserting an entire chicken leg into her mouth cleanly and beginning to chew. Right, she's a dragon. "I can offer you no holy favor with Naga. But," she continued, eyes warming as she placed a hand over the merchant's resting one, "Thank you, miss, for this meal and for your information. You have my gratitude."

And then she glared at me, green eyes lancing into my thoughts, and I let out a groan. "Ugh, thank you," I rolled my eyes, "Said it already. It's just weird."

Shaking her head, the woman took a deep breath. "I don't want to be a part of a war, and I just wanted to be _nice_ ," she hissed, the steel in her voice startling me, "And I've done that. I'm leaving town tomorrow to get out of this country. Good luck finding your friend."

With that, she picked up her fork and started to eat in silence. I snorted, and returned to my salad. It was delicious.

[][Andrew][]

I awoke slowly and painfully, bound hands grasping at coarse wood. Warm predawn light peered between the tents to reach my eyes, seeping through the cold in my bones but reminding me of the chill. My mind slipped through the seams of memory, reaching into the void that was yesterday and coming up mostly empty. A quick checkup determined I was fully intact, if chilly, so my 'good friend' Future Robin hadn't beaten me up. Or he had, and he'd healed me up. Either way, I remembered absolutely nothing and I assumed that it was a good thing.

The aching, bleeding feeling of worry continued to eat away at my insides, and frankly I don't think Robin's comments would have helped much. At least they'd let me keep my clothes (the Duke's outfit had survived this long, can you believe it?). In a moment of clarity, I recalled that Robin wanted me recognizable for the 'lost children'. Guess that means I made it to the Shepherds in the future timeline, but it doesn't tell me how much Robin knows.

As more of the Sun crept beyond the horizon, activity kicked up significantly- a constantly rising swell of chatter and clanking metal that drilled into my head. If I was going to get out of here, I needed a clear head, and headaches do not equal a clear head. Not that I was getting out of here, honestly. The bars were wooden, I confirmed, but four guards were stationed around the cages and one was giving me the stinkeye.

Briefly, pulled myself into a ball to try and warm up- these cages were too short to stand up in for someone as tall as me, but at that size a huge amount of heat was being lost to open air. After a moment, I felt a subtle heat at my core, and after a moment I felt less cold. With a further flex of my fingertips, I restored feeling to my hands- admittedly, it didn't feel great. Unfortunately, as the blood got flowing, it gave feeling to my aching joints. Lovely stuff.

I also doubted I was dangerous enough for more than two guards, so I decided to check out the cages around me. A few of the cages had people in them, people I couldn't recognize but seemed just as enthusiastic about capture as I was. I grimaced at the thought, feeling my insides tingle and my stomach knot with unpleasant heat.

But there was also, I noted, a metal cage. Made of flat black-grey metal, it looked like it was something that would get unpleasantly hot during the day and bitterly cold at night. "Bit cruel, if you ask me," I mumbled.

Pausing for a moment, I digested my words and nodded. "Right, prisoners."

I was either losing my mind already, or I was incredibly bored. Possibly both.

"I don't suppose any of you know how to play checkers?" I said loudly, making one of the guards jump.

"No games, prisoner," grunted a different soldier, visibly rolling his eyes at the startled soldier. "We're wise to your tricks."

Wiser than I am, evidently. I'm decent at magic tricks, but those need a deck of cards. Unless one of them was willing to provide me a deck of woodsaws, I couldn't really employ that. But then again... even though I was pretty much doomed, I figured I'd make the most of it. I wriggled in my bonds, which had grown somewhat slack overnight. Best not to emphasize that. "That's not a _no_ , is it? I'm quite bored right now, and I've got a rat's chance in a monastery of getting out of here alive."

The 'startled' guard, who henceforth will be called Starti, looked at the other guard, who I will call Grumpy. The other two guards were at the other end of the cages, and for now were 'Away 1' and 'Away 2'.

Anyways, Starti looked at Grumpy in askance, and Grumpy shrugged. "I don't know checkers. Is it one of those Ylissean games?" His voice was gruff and gravelly, and pretty stereotypical for a seasoned soldier. I wasn't sure how they got seasoned, but given the bandit raids of Ylisse, I could guess.

Starti shook their head. "No, sir, I've been to Ylisse. They don't have... uh, Checkers, there."

"Well, my dear Plegian captors," I began with a grin, because my god it looked like I had a chance to get some leverage here, "Allow me to educate you. First, you draw a grid of squares, eight a side... do you have some pebbles or tokens we could use? And maybe my morning rations- can't do much an an empty stomach, as I'm sure you're all aware..."

{}{}{Anna}{}{}

The merchant left after paying, presumably leaving my life forever. You meet a lot of odd folk in the trade, and you rarely see them more than once. It wasn't a new thing, and I honestly preferred it that way. Minimal obligation and all that.

Watching Lady Tiki eat an _entire_ chicken, though, was new. Voice of Naga or no, it was still unsettling to see her bite cleanly through a bone. She managed to make it look not disgusting, eating it with a touch of class that contradicted shoving an entire chicken bone in her mouth.

Anyways, when the meal was done, I found myself outside the tavern with Lady Tiki. The noonday sun wasn't too bad, but I still winced as the glittering waves lanced bright light straight into my eyes. I took that moment to close my eyes, put a finger to my chin, and put myself back together. New plans spun up in my head, new avenues of profit opened as old ones closed.

"Well," I began cheerfully, turning to Lady Tiki, "I'll get back to the warehouse, pull out some choice wares from the tea, and see how big a profit I can turn on it. Since Andrew isn't here, I'll be giving you part of his cut."

The Voice of Naga looked off into the growing crowd of sailors, merchants, and rabble, posture rigid and unpleasantly noble. "Keep your cut, Miss Anna."

I blinked, shaking my head. "Pardon?" She was turning down money? I knew she was one of those charitable types, but she was entirely without currency. How could anyone stand that?

"That cut, as you yourself put it, is for Andrew, not me. It should be given to him in person, if possible," Lady Tiki said, rounding on me with her emerald eyes, hidden as they were in the shadows of the cloak, "They could not have gotten that far, correct?"

Oh, there was zero chance of _that_ happening. Tangling with the Grimleal is a death sentence, and worse, you can't really turn a profit when the guard is constantly hounding you. With a sigh, I turned and started walking back to the warehouse. "I mean, they're pretty efficient with their whole slaving and imprisonment scheme," I noted, stepping around a pickpocket and nipping a few coins from their pocket, "And I enjoy being alive. Even if I _did_ go after them, I wouldn't be able to leave Plegia easily afterwards. Not worth it, not worth the cost."

Lady Tiki paused for a moment, but out of the corner of my eye I saw her start to follow me. She made no attempts to respond- maybe she'd seen reason? Or, at least, she'd decided to stick around. I wouldn't mind that; she's a competent fighter, a possible source of profit, and actually quite pretty to boot. Even better, she agreed that soup was the best.

When we finally arrived at the warehouse, doors creaking open so we could slip inside, I felt a cold hand grip my shoulder- Lady Tiki's hand, her nails uncomfortably sharp against the fabric of my outfit. I twitched, hand reaching for my dagger, but she spun me around before I could even complete the motion. Her eyes stopped me dead in my tracks, grasping at my heart with frigid talons even as her fingers dug a little deeper.

"Miss Anna," she began, voice tinged by a slight _hiss_ , "I am not sure I heard you properly. Andrew, who provided the information you need to profit, and..." trailing off, she frowned, tilting her head.

I took that moment to reply, trying to sidle out of her grip. "Look, first of all, people have been stabbed for touching me much less than that. Secondly, I already told you exactly what I thought. He's not _that_ important, honestly." Helpful? Yes. Friendly? Yes. But at the end of the day, he'd proven himself a risk.

And yet I felt a twinge of _something_ , a niggling idea that burrowed into me.

She smiled at me, showing a few more teeth than was reasonable for a human. Were those _fangs_? "Thank you, Anna, for clarifying," Lady Tiki nodded, seemingly satisfied, "I will feel no regret for my actions, then."

Before I even had time to process that- for those words could only really mean one thing, there was a flash of pale skin and a riotous streak of _pain_ across my cheek as I was sent tumbling backwards. Instincts returned to me, turning my tumble into a roll, and I was up with my dagger out in a heartbeat.

"What in Naga's name are-"

I carefully shuffled forward, glancing to both sides. Lady Tiki had already started walking away, and didn't seem to notice my exclamation.

My hands shook as I stepped back into the warehouse, and I felt a strong need to sit down and think.

()()Tiki()()

In my youth, I learned to hate dark magic, and I learned to hate the humans that commanded it. The wrath of a Dragon, contained as it is within a Dragonstone, was visited upon all sorcerers I met without a second thought for nearly a century. It burned inside of me, a white-hot flame of anger that burrowed deep and echoed with memories best left untouched.

Though my history is long, and filled with countless years of slumber and patches of lost memory, I will never forget how dark magic felt when I turned its power on those I hated. It sparked with my hatred, and they suffered. They hated me as I did them, and it was by my hand this hatred was formed.

Hate, I learned, was worthless.

I did not hate Anna; she was a woman of grey principle, even if that principle went against the empathetic values I held so dearly. If anything, I _respected_ her for adhering to her personal creed.

Respect, though, does not demand compliance. It is not a nugget of profound wisdom, or some far-reaching tenet of Naga's faith; you may respect your enemy and still fight them. So even as I left Anna shocked on the street, after tolerating her inaction to such a degree that I too chose not to act, I respected her.

Chasing after the Grimleal to rescue Andrew was beyond a dangerous move, one that I did not even fault her for avoiding. In the name of Naga's greater good, it would be easy to step aside and allow a normal human to be captured- after all, I knew the worth of my life was beyond his.

But this one knew the future, and was in the hands of Grima's servants. Naga had bent time to her will for a fraction of an instant to free humanity from a dark future, and for all her faults, she had made the correct choice. I would not allow myself to stand by and allow calamity.

As I walked down the road, mind turning down strange paths, I managed to halt my thoughts with a shake of my head. "What matters," I told myself, heedless of those around me, "Is that disaster is averted. What steps do I need to take to guarantee it?"

The clatter of wooden wheels filled my ears as I turned, and for a moment I found myself well and truly startled. Even as the cart rolled up next to me, I was once again amazed by how strange humans are. "And here I thought you were a woman of principle," I said, smiling faintly and with hardly any fang showing, "I'm not sure if I should respect you more or less."

"More, preferably," Anna huffed, chewing on her lip as she rolled her eyes, "Just... get in the cart, okay? Andrew knows the future, and I want to cash in on that investment before the Grimleal do."

I laughed, well and truly, leaping onto the cart with perhaps a smidgen too much grace to be human. "He's also an excellent soup chef."

"Anyone can be a good soup chef, Lady Tiki," Anna grunted, flicking the reins, "But Andrew's _my_ good soup chef."

As the Sun crept further west, casting long shadows across our sides, we set out- well and truly- on a weighty path with no hope of return. "My thanks, Anna," I said genuinely, watching her flinch, "This was the right thing to do."

"Don't remind me, Lady Tiki."

()()()()()()


	11. Chatter and Checkers

{}{}{Anna}{}{}

Plegia.

When you see Plegia on a map, you'll see scribbles and dots to mark the whole place as a vast desert, empty save for a handful of nonsensical villages and a few odd cliff formations. Anyone with a grasp of history will see the little doodle of a skeleton and remember that this is where the Grimleal were founded, right on top of Grima's corpse. If you're Archanean, you'll probably just accept that and move on. I know I did, before I travelled to Valm.

Archanea seems to forget that Plegia is a _coastal_ nation, and deserts don't just run straight into the ocean. Those towns in the middle of 'nowhere'? Villages sitting on an oasis or aquifer. More importantly, villages like that mark the path of merchant caravans. Plegia's more than just a desert, and more than just the Grimleal.

Doesn't mean I like the damn country- but I'd be an _awful_ merchant if I didn't know about my main buyers. Even if the Grimleal had been pushed back under King Gangrel's rule, they still were around. Obviously, given they'd arrested- kidnapped- whatever. They took Andrew somewhere and for some reason we were going to rescue him.

This shouldn't feel right, but it... does, somehow.

"Anna," Lady Tiki began, green eyes gleaming a bit too brightly under her cloak, "While I am happy that we're attempting this together, wouldn't it be wise to collect information before leaving town?"

The cart hit a particularly rough section of cobble, and I winced at the soft clatter of metal in the back. The camping supplies and food hadn't been packed properly, and it was going to drive me nuts if I didn't fix that. I offered the reins to Lady Tiki, feeling the buzz of her magic as her hand brushed mine. "Well," I grunted, stepping over the divider into the back of the cart, "Sane or not, the Grimleal were going to take the coastal route to Plegia's capital. It's easily the longest cobbled road this side of old Altean routes."

"Altea," Lady Tiki mused, and I glanced over my shoulder. She does know how to operate a cart, good. "That certainly brings back memories."

Many of the tea crates had remained on my covered cart, and the rest... well, I could turn a serious profit with what I had, and one of my sisters would no doubt be along soon enough to sell the rest. With so many crates here, though, I was struggling to find a good place for my equipment. "Keep to the left side of the road, will you?" I muttered, watching for the subtle nod of her hood, "You're drifting."

The Voice of Naga huffed, twitching the reins in her hands. "Well, pardon me. You try remembering how to steer a cart for a thousand years."

"At least you know how to. I've seen nobles crash in an open field before," I grunted, bringing a few crates over to one side to try and even out the load, "Then again, so did you."

She laughed at that. "I didn't even have a horse, Anna. Does that make it better or worse?"

"Better, probably," I shrugged, grimacing as my equipment clattered again, "Drifting again. I wouldn't hire you, but you're not crashing."

"How bold of you to question the skills of the Voice," Lady Tiki intoned dramatically, a faint and broadly Valmese accent creeping in.

"I think it's a fair exchange for being slapped," I shot back, "Some people would line up and pay for that, but I'm not one of those people."

Lady Tiki huffed a little. "And you call us dragons strange."

"I only call them strange when they _keep turning the cart to the right_ ," I emphasized with a snort, "Not that I disagree. There was a minor noble in southern Valm that wanted me to step on him. And he was willing to _pay_ me for it."

"When I was younger, my mere presence caused horses to spook and run away. This is a definite improvement," the Voice said, a little bit wistfully. "I found it quite funny, but Mar- ah, Marth- always gave me a stern talking-to after I chased the horses away."

I chuckled, shuffling a few things aside and sliding our supplies into a much safer nook. "Scaring away horses would be bad for business. Can they tell you're a dragon? The ears and hair kind of give it away, but..." That and the constant, low buzz of magic when you're close by. That one's easier to miss, even if you are a practised mage or healer.

"I suspect that our Manakete form doesn't quite mask our scent, or something similar," she mused, tilting her head as I slid back into the front, "I'm, ah," she paused to yawn, "Not sure."

That was the other thing that gave her away. Lady Tiki sleeps for at least two thirds of the day, kind of like a cat. I grinned at that, picturing her sunbathing as a dragon. People would pay good money to see that- maybe I could even commission a painting, sell it to some member of the nobility...? Ylissean nobility, or maybe one of the Khans in Ferox. The Valmese were generally too reverent to buy something like that, and Plegia would just burn it without buying it. "There's space right behind the seat where you can nap," I suggested, "I'd rather not have you falling out of the cart."

"I rather think, ah," Lady Tiki frowned, stretching her arms in a way people really _couldn't_ \- it did look very relieving though. Dragging out a long yawn, she closed her eyes and nodded. "Yes, I will."

And I was left alone on the coastal road of Plegia. It wasn't all that bad, honestly. A few carts passing by, one or two up ahead, and not a single slave caravan in sight. While slavery was, _ugh_ , profitable, the Anna clan has limits. Working with slave traders always leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. Hopefully Andrew wasn't going to be tossed into the slave trade, because then there was zero chance of finding him.

That thought didn't do great things for my mood.

As I've said, I don't like rain much at all- less customers, less light, and I didn't like getting damp. To tack on to that, I had gotten bored of the samey scenery of my routes in Valm. So this new scenery- _rain-free_ and not generically Valmese- pushed my mood right back up.

With only the rattling of the cart and the distant murmur of other merchants, things suddenly started to feel normal again. Not the new normal- a major religious icon on one side and... whatever Andrew was... on the other, but the old, comfortable normal. Anna the Merchant, selling wares at profitable prices, travelling from town to town without any obligation whatsoever. I could almost picture myself cozying up to a fire, reading a cheesy romance novel without anyone judging me for it.

"Anna, this novel-"

The bottom dropped out of my stomach, and I let out a long sigh. "Lady Tiki, my reading material is none of your business. Aren't you trying to sleep?"

"I was, but your books piqued my interest," she continued drowsily as I resolutely looked forward. Maybe she'd found one of the cleaner ones.

Don't judge me on my taste in reading material, okay?

"Still none of your business," I grumbled, trying desperately not to chew on my lip. Squaring my shoulders, I called upon my inner saleswoman. "But if you're interested, you can read the ones I'm done with- so long as you agree to a few small business ventures."

"I was moreso concerned for Joseph's spine, Anna. It has been several decades since I had such an experience with a man, but I am certain that this... position... does not work."

My cheeks flushed, and I started chewing on my lip. "I don't want the Voice of Naga to chew me out for my choice in books, thank you very much."

Lady Tiki chuckled, her voice starting to slur with sluggishness. "I never liked chewing people out, just eating them whole, honestly...what kind of business ventures do you have in mind?"

I wasn't sure if I should feel excited, terrified, or both. Both worked.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

We were up with the sun the next day.

Let me correct that.

Lady Tiki slept from mid-afternoon until well after sunset, waking up long enough to eat before going back to sleep. If it hadn't been soup, she might've just slept through it entirely. In a way, she's an ideal travelling partner- she doesn't bother me much, can kill people with her bare hands (have you _seen_ how sharp her nails can get?), and most importantly, she likes soup.

So, let's start again: I was up well before the sun, and we were on the road again once there was enough light. So we were _out_ with the sun, I guess?

I had a beautiful few hours of rolling cheerily along the road, and I even managed to sell a few crates of tea at a significant markup before noon. A heavy coinpurse is a happy coinpurse, so long as it's mine.

Then Lady Tiki woke up.

"Humans have this tendency to state the obvious. Yes, yes, he's attractive, you told me that last page..." There was the telltale scrape of paper on paper, and an amused grunt.

And started reading one of my books.

"A man so gentle as to tame pegasi, hm?" I'd always thought that was a little bit unrealistic. Pegasi didn't like men, it had pretty much nothing to do with how gentle you were.

 _Lord of the Pegasi_ , Book 1 to be exact. They weren't poorly written- they were fine, really- but they weren't meant for rigorous examination.

"Goodness, he's _dense_ though. Sara is throwing herself at him like a salmon up a stream, and he reacts by... smouldering obliviously?" But he was cute and that was the important part.

There was a long pause in her commentary. I smirked. "Chapter four?"

She let out a huff. "Chapter four. Silly, but there's more depth than I expected."

"It sat in the back of my cart for a year or two before I read it, you know," I explained, feeling a bit nostalgic, "It gets good around chapter four, and it's such a... well," I gestured outward vaguely.

"It is a very 'womanly' book, as General Cervantes' moustache would put it. I recall some using that as a point of leverage, at least in the kingdoms I have travelled."

So she understood that, at least. When you spend time in Valm, you'll pretty quickly find that some Valmese treat women as less than equal. Books like _Lord of the Pegasi_ are cheesy, emotional romances, and apparently having feelings is bad.

That's ridiculous. I wouldn't be half the merchant I am today without my love of money.

"I find that mentality quite strange," Lady Tiki began, her voice taking on a scholarly tone, "After all, Naga is broadly worshipped, and she is a woman. _I_ am a woman."

"Not really my area," I shrugged, pausing for a moment, "As you said, people are strange."

She hummed in agreement, returning to the book. Less commentary now, which I liked.

You could almost forget that we're planning to get someone back from the _Grimleal_.

[][Andrew][]

Grumpy the Guard was a family man from southern Plegia, with two kids and a wife that Gangrel had promised to help support. He'd made the same promise to countless conscripts, and I was beginning to understand why his army was both so willing to fight Ylisse, and so willing to betray Plegia with Emmeryn's death. They were just _people_.

Starti the Guard was bad at checkers, and refused to play with or talk to me.

Neither of them had told me their names, and I hadn't told them mine. I preferred it that way.

"Knight me," declared Grumpy, placing one of his chips at my end of the board. I grumbled the whole time, slipping a hand through the bars and flipping his chip over to reveal the marked side.

Out of respect and/or fear of angry monarchs, I'd decided to change 'king me' to 'knight me'. It didn't sound quite as cool, but I figured I'd get to say 'King me!' exactly once before I got stabbed. A worthwhile, but tragic, exchange.

I moved a chip of my own, doing my best not to scuff the dirt board we'd worked out. "You've gotten way better since yesterday, you know," I said pleasantly, knowing full well that he was going to avoid eye contact, "I'm no slouch. Soon enough, you might have to teach other people so you can get someone better to play against!"

"Maybe," Grumpy agreed, jumping two of my pieces in a row. Crud. "Rotating tomorrow anyways. Third Company gets back some time today."

Third Company. I'd heard mention of them before. "Third Company?" Maybe he wouldn't see this move coming, but checkers was a bit simple...

"Uh-huh." He'd seen it, and now I was pretty much doomed.

And I scuffed the board this time, reaching for a piece. "I don't suppose- knight me, by the way- you could make us a proper board, then? No, make one for yourself, play the game, and teach it to guards so I have new people to play against as well. How long do you think I'm here for?"

Grumpy actually thought about that before replying. "Until the Hierophant is done with you." He flipped the 'knighted' chip, looking decidedly unhappy about it.

"That's ominous," I nodded, "When is it time for him to interrogate me? Lunch?"

"Dinner."

"You know," I grinned, jumping a piece, "I'm beginning to think you don't like it when I talk a lot. You'd tell me if I _ever_ inflicted an annoyance on you, right?"

"Hm."

Good talk.

It took him about four more turns to put the game in an unwinnable state for me, and then we reset. I figured I was going to get really good at checkers by the end of this.

[][][][][][][][]

"Ha!" I exclaimed, putting one of my pieces down at the far end of the board, "Knight me. This game's about to turn around."

Away 1 (being one of the two guards on the other side of the cages) grumbled, moving a piece forward. "Makin' the rules yerself, got n' advantage."

I scoffed, leaning back in my cage and crossing my arms. "Look, it beats standing around and doing nothing. Plus, how could I cheat?"

He frowned, furrowing his brow and stroking a blonde beard. "Sure does."

Away 2 tromped over, shoulders squared and trying to look ominous. "The Hierophant said to be careful with this prisoner, not play games with him. I say-"

"Seth, you shut yer mouth," Grumpy said grumpily, playing checkers with the guard who'd come to deliver lunch. I was beginning to wonder how bored these people were usually, because we were up to maybe eight guards just idling around playing checkers. "Trying to concentrate."

I chuckled at that, checking the sun as best I could from inside my wooden cage. It was past noon, that's for sure- the knot of worry in my stomach grew heavier, no matter what I tried. Robin wanted to see me for _something_ , and I had a hunch it would suck.

"So what's your story, anyways?" I said quietly, not minding that he'd just jumped a piece and put me in a precarious position. I'd heard a few stories from soldiers already- each one stung a little more, knowing that they were just _people_ at the end of the day. People I might, if things go right, have to kill. That assumes that I get out of here at all, which is a tough sell in my opinion.

Away 1 worked his jaw and shook his head. "S' easier fer both of us if I don' tell it."

I didn't have much to say to that, and in the end, I think he was right.

[][][][][][][][]

Two guards had come to drag me to the Hierophant's tent- or whatever that command tent is- depositing me roughly into a wooden chair before leaving. The tent itself was sparsely furnished, with the main article being a broad desk completely covered in paperwork and sketches of battle plans. Aside from the new digs- a brown and white coat- Robin was the standard male avatar from Smash, right down to the levin sword. Someone laid a gloved hand on my shoulder, gripping quite firmly, as we waited for Grima/Robin to look up from his work.

He continued to scribble at paperwork with a pen for what seemed like hours, probably waiting for me to break or... something. I wasn't feeling much- no, that's a bald-faced lie. There was an agonizing knot of aching of anxiety in my gut, a feeling that begged me to just scream and run away into the desert. I was keeping that under control, just barely.

"If she's anything like her future self," Robin said quietly, still not looking up from his work, "She won't be looking for you."

Ah. Yes, there's that panic I was expecting. I shrugged, trying to iron out the tremor in my voice. "Still can't run screaming into the desert, what with this whole being captured thing. I-" my voice broke, much to my dismay, "I'm not surprised though. She's just a, just a merchant."

And a friend, I hoped. Who knows how much had changed so far? Was I influential enough to do that? Doubtful, but I could dream. Still, though, I held the bulk of my feelings back beyond a fracturing dam. Hopefully, even with the leaking, it'd be enough to get through this.

He paused for a moment, scratching something out on his paperwork before placing his quill back in the inkwell. Pale, long-nailed hands folded together, and I forced myself to look into his burning crimson eyes. His grin had far too many teeth- an effect that didn't bother me so much, because Tiki did that sometimes. "Release him. We're going to walk and talk."

The gloved hand on my shoulder vanished, and I stood uncomfortably as Robin walked around his desk. "Come, Andrew," he began, stepping past me, "I've always found people more honest under the night sky."

I blinked, trying to sort out his motives. Nothing I recalled from the games helped here at all. For lack of other options, I followed him out of the tent and matched his pace as he turned back towards the cages. The chatter of soldiers laid a foundation for the noise around us as we flitted between pools of torchlight. If I wasn't walking next to a mass-murdering avatar for a demonic dragon, it would have been calming.

"This is unexpected," I admitted, "I kind of thought you'd be..." I had to crane my neck down a bit, that's for sure. He was shorter than Anna or Tiki, but not by a huge amount.

"More evil? Violent? Angry?" Robin suggested, quirking his lips in a fanged smile, "Taller?"

"Yeah, taller. My foreknowledge- you know about that, right?" I cursed internally, because that was a _big_ screw up if he didn't know. That was his plan, though; maybe I _was_ more honest under the night sky.

"The Deadlords killed you before I could extract anything useful, but I was aware," Robin confirmed casually, as if he were talking about the weather. A crowd of guards split around us, going deathly silent.

So I was dead in the future. Not a big surprise, but it stirred more uncomfortable feelings. "Good to know, I suppose. Anyways, my foreknowledge isn't so great on detail. Hell, I didn't know if you were going to be a man or a woman."

He frowned. "We're almost to the far gate. Are the constellations different in this world, Andrew?"

"Once we get out of the torchlight, we can find out," I replied, working my jaw. "You know, if you weren't planning on destroying the world, this conversation would be much easier."

"If I wasn't planning on destroying the world," Robin shot back crisply, "We wouldn't be here, would we? Ah, this is the northern gate. At ease, soldiers; if we're not back before the guard shift, ring the alarm."

This 'northern gate' was really just a gap between the wooden spikes that formed something close to a wall, but it still felt nice to step outside it. The cobbled road wound into the distance, lit by glittering moonlight and a distant amber glow. "You make a fair point."

I looked upwards, drinking in the dark tapestry of stars. The center of the sky was marked by a band of soft light, speckled with brighter stars throughout. Some were familiar- the North Star, a handful of constellations, and so on. Most stars were not.

"It's," I said faintly, feeling quite small, "Not the same sky. Similar- you can see the big dipper there, but Orion's missing."

Robin followed my finger, pausing for a moment. "There isn't-" he scoffed. "Of course there isn't. That's what you're saying."

This was the man who killed millions of people. He was a destroyer, a homebreaker, a kinslayer- and I was talking to him as I would any normal person. Why? "So what do you want from me, Robin? Why are you doing this?"

"It's quite simple, actually," Robin explained, looking up at the night sky, "Inside that head of yours is the knowledge I need to win. And, regardless of what you _say_ , you'll bend the truth to save your friends."

"Accurate. I'm only human, after all," I murmured, clearing my throat, "I mean being out here. If you're not trusting me to tell you the truth-"

He held up a hand, and with the other, pointed to a caravan that had just appeared over a distant hill. "See them, Andrew?"

"I do, but-"

Shushing me with a finger to his lips, Robin smiled a bit too widely. "Listen closely."

I concentrated, closing my eyes and shutting out the camp behind me. "I hear-" laughter, familiar laughter. My breath caught, mind racing frantically. Who was that?

So I focused on that voice, trying to pull it from the threads of conversation. It had a cadence I'd heard, but... No, it couldn't be. "Gregor," I forced out, throat constricted, "Which means-"

"Nowi, of course."

I opened my eyes, memories surging back. Nowi- I'd never used her as a unit because of her outfit, which was a bit shallow of me, but not something I could go back on. The important part was that she'd been captured (and probably enslaved) by the Grimleal. And now she was here.

Robin's grin looked more like a shark's than a dragon's. "Let's cut to the chase, Andrew. You have information I want, and you're not going to be able to keep it from me. If you want Nowi to live, that is."

That didn't seem much like cutting to the chase, but it was the right direction. I frowned, trying to mask my thoughts-

Everything went black, and consciousness failed me.

[][][][][][][][]

Lightning, for a heartbeat, cast the endless pale dunes in stark white relief. Shadows grew deeper, even as sand glittered in the momentary light..

Thunder, for a terrifying moment, stormed and echoed across the horizons, roaring in defiance.

And then, a return to darkness.

The air moved slowly and carried a bone-biting chill, wrapping itself around me like a lethal blanket. In one hand, I held a tumbling, flickering ember that brought no warmth- and its light was suffocated barely footsteps away. In my other hand, my sword, frigid and biting as ice, was locked into my frostbitten grip. Each footstep was sluggish, my boots sinking into the sand and struggling to escape it.

A rasp of leather rushing against sand emerged, quiet but echoing in the painful and dark silence. A shoddy, ragged intake of breath- a wet, broken sound that ground against my ears.

And then, a hoarse voice. Like sand, rushing through my ears and grinding at my thoughts.

 _You have_ _nothing_ _here_.

I pushed onwards, one foot in front of the other. My boots struggled to escape the hungry grasp of the desert,

_Why are you still here, Andrew?_

A flash of lightning. The prow of the ship was so close now, but no closer than the breathing, scraping _thing_ behind me.

_She won't be looking for you._

I found my voice, briefly. "We can't know for sure," I whispered.

_Why is this so important to you?_

As quickly as it had come, my voice was gone. The breathing was close now.

_You are a stranger, after all._

A flicker of light, the embers in my palm swelling and burning.

_I see you._

I turned, firey hand outstretched. A familiar, hulking figure, crimson eyes glowing through a six-eyed mask that shone gold in the firelight. It reached out-

And the sky cracked open, bleeding white-green light as the world turned to dust. My sword melted, pooling into the endless void below. Everything was soft blushes of greenish light, motes of white fading in and out of sight. In the distance, I saw... something. Someone?

All that was left was a strange figure, shrouded in shadow that defied the surrounding radiance. It lurched forward, forcing a single step before it too crumbled to ash. With a clatter, its gold mask fell to the floor. The mask's form wavered, resisting- but it too crumbled, drifting away as a mote of golden dust.

[][][][][][][][]

When reality put itself back together, at least from my perspective, we were back in the tent. Robin had a hand to his forehead, expression twisted into a pained snarl, and I had a pretty raging headache as well. I wasn't snarling with fangs, though, but I probably looked upset.

We both cursed at the same time, and he raised an eyebrow. "You, too?" he spat out, rubbing his forehead, "It didn't work yesterday, and it, ugh, _failed_ today. You're not nearly competent enough at anything to push me out, so..."

I shrugged, wincing as the headache throbbed. "I know that's not a compliment, but you're not trying to murder me- or Nowi, that is, so... you're not upset?"

He smirked. "No, not really. I'll just try and torture you the usual way tomorrow."

That's... not great. My stomach knotted up, gruesome images coming to mind between throbs of my headache. "W-well, you know, I could just tell you the information."

"Yes, yes," Robin waved his hand, looking back down at his paperwork, "And you'll omit and lie as you please. I know your type. Take him to his cage."

I was beginning to think that, even if I was rescued, it wouldn't be a happy rescue. It inspired a kind of... knotted panic, wrapped around stomach and clawing at my heart. I let myself slump down as the gloved hand on my shoulder yanked me up, dragging me away.

[][][][][][][][]


	12. Dragons and Ashes

There's this thing time does when you're anxious.

I watched the sky, seeing the grasping shadows of dawn as the day announced itself. I looked back down, seeing new, unfamiliar guards with unfriendly grimaces. The Sun crept ever upwards, searing itself into the frigid sand and skies, ever so slow yet heart-rendingly swiftly. Even as the chatter of guards and clatter of metal swelled over the silence, I felt more alone than ever.

That blackened, cold-iron knot in my stomach clawed upwards, slicing into my chest and leaving little ribbons of fear. It reached outwards, too; dragging at time itself and warping _everything_ in a way that twisted my thoughts.

It's why I don't like being alone, even if I don't like to admit that to myself. With new guards, a new weight on my shoulders, and Grima's plans on the horizon, every moment was an eternity that went by too fast.

A rustle of cloth drew my focus outwards, away from dark thoughts and towards the dark surroundings. The metal cage, which laid empty for the first two days I was here, now had a resident-

Nowi.

She was curled up, cape wrapped around her body like a blanket to protect against the bitter cold of the desert. A rippling halo of green hair spilled out around her, starting light and shifting to deeper tones as it grew out. It was practically glowing in the morning light, and I absently wondered how it was kept so clean. Or how her cape was so clean, for that matter. My own outfit was-

"Huh," I remarked, inspecting my outfit, "How _are_ myclothes so clean?"

Because I certainly wasn't clean- I was in desperate need of a shower or bath. My clothes, the bright red tunic and brown pants I'd made on the boat, were surprisingly free of grit. A question for another day, probably, because I doubted that Nowi or the guards knew.

Speaking of Nowi, it was hard to look at her for long periods. She was shivering visibly, her temperature no doubt brought down by the frigid metal cage. I knew she was over a thousand years old and I couldn't see her expressions, it nearly broke my heart to see a 'child' treated like this. I didn't dare contemplate what the soldiers of Third Company had done to her, shutting out that dark path in my thoughts before I started to walk it. It was hard enough to maintain composure as it was.

So I moved my thoughts elsewhere. If she's wearing her complete outfit from the game (an outfit that made me cringe every time I thought about it), she'd still be worse off in a wood cage like mine- splinters everywhere. Not that I had gotten more than one or two, but I was mostly covered up.

With very little else to think about, I did my best to stave off the creeping, aching feeling that grasped at my bones. Nowi came with Gregor, and Gregor escaped with Nowi. That helped a bit. Robin- Grima- had threatened to straight-up kill Nowi if I didn't comply. I barely even _knew_ Nowi; never used her much when I played, and I hadn't spoken to the woman herself yet. That brought my mood down, but I forged onwards.

Mentally, that is. I was still stuck in a cage, not much could be done about that, yet.

 _If she's anything like her future self, she won't be looking for you_.

I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to stave off the chill.

Grima was probably right.

Deep breaths, Andrew, deep breaths. I hadn't need regular therapy since I got a handle on my anxiety, which had to have been nine years ago now. Shaking my head, I sighed. Focus, keep your thoughts on what you can control, and move forward. Plan what you can.

Breathe.

I watched the sky, tracing the paths of the scattered clouds. They took familiar shapes- a teddy bear, a whale, a face-

A shuddering breath escaped me, the tension in my body unraveling.

There was a warmth at my core, a tiny spark of _something_ that fought the creeping cold. It was a hopeful, if somewhat bitter, feeling that drove that flame- I could feel a thin smile forming on my face. A tingling in my chest, embers of an idea that sparked on what I knew. The smile grew with my plan, the chill of night driven back as the Sun started to warm the air.

"Don't smile like that, Prisoner!" snapped a gruff voice, ripping me from my thoughts.

It was one of the new guards. They had their helmet on, and had gotten pretty close to my cage, probably trying to tower over me with some show of force. The knotted feelings in my gut fought with the fire in my thoughts, eventually coming out to something of a stalemate. My grin faded, but I still bit out a response. "I know, I know," I said, not the least bit apologetic as I spread my arms in supplication, "I'm not allowed to be happy. I'll do my best to get right back to being sad."

The new guard clenched a fist, jabbing into my cage with the butt of his spear. "No back-talk either. The Hierophant needs you alive, and that's it."

Well, I at least had that leverage. I nodded, trying to look suitably threatened. Not super hard, given I had no idea how impulsive this guy was, but he wanted me cowed. That wasn't happening, thank you. I had a _plan_ now, and I might actually get to do something about it before...

My heart sank a little, my already fragile enthusiasm cracking. I had until tonight to get this show on the road, and I'd never opened for a play before, let alone a prison escape. No time like the present, I suppose?

Right, the plan. We're burning daylight. The guard had returned to his post, but he was staring at me now.

I probably should explain my plan.

So, first thing's first, I _know_ that Gregor broke Nowi out, and I know that he ran into the Shepherds. If I know when Gregor was planning to bust Nowi out (hopefully today, given my deadline) then I could actually line up with the Shepherds. If all else fails, we go to Ferox and meet up with one of the Khans, and through that we'll meet up with the Shepherds. I'll see what information I can get to someone much smarter than I am, the _present_ Robin, and then figure out where Anna is.

It's a simple plan, but again, that's why I want someone like Robin to run the war. I'm not cut out for this fighting stuff- for a moment, as that thought crossed my mind, I saw my blade running through that pirate. I'd never forget their expression, and some grim part of me said I never should _want_ to.

But now came the part I wasn't so sure of. How do I meet with Gregor?

Well, I could ask, but the guards would probably stab me as they are now. This is something Anna would be better at- manipulating people. But maybe I could pull it off, just barely. What did I have on hand?

Something twitched in the corner of my eye. Nowi stirred in her sleep, but did not wake. Given Tiki's sleeping habits, that wasn't a surprise to me. What had that guard said on the cart? 'Third Company has a new pet?'

A child, a dragon, being treated as a pet. I felt bile in my throat as I thought about it, and- christ, am I really doing this? I felt _nauseous_ thinking about using that to start a conversation. It was downright _wrong_.

"Hey," I started casually, heart beating a painful rhythm, "How'd you get your hands on a _Manakete_? That's impressive stuff." I resisted the urge to vomit at my own words, smiling bitterly. An actor that couldn't deliver their lines vomiting on stage would be awful, Mr. Stevens always said, so try to do it during rehearsal.

Unfortunately, I didn't have a rehearsal, so I guess I'd just have to grin and bear it.

The other guard bought it, and the guard that seemed to want to stab me loosened their grip. Without leaving his spot, that second guard turned and smiled at me. He looked way too young to be this happy about slavery. Deep breaths, Andrew, deep breaths.

"Wasn't there for the capture, but she's the pride of Third Company. Our very own Dragon!" I wondered if he really understood what he was saying. Plegia probably took a dim view of Divine Dragons, so this might be normal.

And I needed to somehow sustain this conversation until I could somehow finagle get word to Gregor. I wasn't even sure how that would work, but... Well, I didn't have much else I could do for now.

"Impressive," I agreed, wincing, "If you've got a dragon, what chance do I have of getting out...?"

"Hmph. None at all," the suspicious guard grumbled, "Kid, you know the Hierophant's rules. Don't let his scheming get to you."

I frowned at that, wondering what kind of person I had been in the future. With a pang, I realized that I'd obviously failed to change the future, but that was not new information. I was here, after all. How did I end up a schemer?

Shaking my head, I sighed. "Hey, I'm not getting out of here anytime soon, and you'd just kill me if I did. No schemes from me," I smiled again, shrugging. "Say, do you guys know checkers? All we need is some bits of wood, and there's nothing bad I could do with that..."

"Quiet, prisoner."

The knotting in my stomach returned, and I slouched against the rough wooden bars of the cage. "Fine, fine," I sighed, glancing at the slumbering lump of hair and fabric that was Nowi, "I'll shut up."

[][][][][][][][]

"Knight me," I said quietly, jumping one of my opponent's chips.

The soldier grumbled, stroking his thin brown beard as he examined the board. "Upstart prisoners," he muttered to himself, surprisingly without any malice, "Don't know why I agreed to this."

I snorted, watching him take the opening I'd left. It wasn't planned, but it at least kept him away from my chips closest to his side of the board.

"What kinda game is this?" someone said, making me jump. The soldier jumped a bit as well, and I smirked. The person- a girl- continued, "It looks boring, but I'm _bored_."

I turned a bit, and was presented with two very conflicting feelings. Nowi, with her angular but childlike features, was _absolutely adorable_. Her big and bright amethyst eyes gleamed in the sunlight, shimmering green hair forming a halo around her features. Cute kid.

On the other hand, she was wearing her green, scaled bikini top, pink shorts that were way too small, and long purple boots. Were those _heels_?

"No respect," the soldier grumbled, "None at all."

Shaking my head free of some highly judgemental thoughts, I turned to Nowi and nodded. "Hey, you're finally awake."

Her purple eyes slid right over the soldier and snapped to me, flashing me a bright and childlike smile. "I can't nap forever, even when I want to! So what are you playing?"

It warmed my heart and broke it at the same time. On one hand, she was clearly staying strong despite whatever the hell they were doing with her. On the other, if I resisted Grima's interrogation, she'd be dead before tomorrow. The aching, knotting pain in my stomach returned, this time striking straight for the heart.

"It's checkers, a game from my homeland," I explained, breaking eye contact and looking back at the game, "Pretty simple. You have this board of discs or tokens, all on little squares, and you try and jump over all the opponent's pieces."

Nowi looked at the board for a long moment as I made my move. I cursed- the soldier _had_ figured it out, and now he'd done a triple jump. He smugly took them off the board. "Best learn from him today, because he won't be here tomorrow," he declared a little too proudly, only for a strange expression to cross his face.

My heart fell a little, even though I knew what was coming. The other soldier stiffened, but said nothing. Nowi only frowned. "It's alright, it doesn't look very fun to me. Where's he going?"

Staring downward intensely, the soldier swept all the pieces off our makeshift board (flat ground that I'd sketched the tiles into with a stick) and stormed away. He'd said something he shouldn't have- but why would they hide that from me? Was I not supposed to know?

Unless...

"Humans are weird," Nowi concluded, "Wasn't he winning?"

She can't possibly be this innocent. My spotty memory of the supports surfaced to agree with me- she only acted like a child. There was a sharp mind hidden underneath it; she knew what was happening.

"Well," I started, throat constricting as I turned to face Nowi through the bars of our cages, "The Hierophant-" is probably going to kill me. Or you, probably both of us, unless we can get out of here before Grima's ready. The soldier's comment caught at something in my thoughts even as my voice refused to obey me.

Why was that a secret? Was Robin- Grima- going to kill me regardless of what happened?

"The Hierophant _what_?" the youthful manakete queried, crossing her legs and grabbing her knees.

"He's-" I coughed, clearing my throat. "The Hierophant has some _questions_ for me."

Nowi's eyes glinted like steel and her expression sharpened, only to fade away in a heartbeat. "Oh," she said softly, "Do you... do you want to play checkers?"

I grinned, but my heart wasn't in it. It had sunk into a black pit of unpleasant thoughts, and I couldn't reach in to save it. "Sure. What's your name?"

"Nowi! And yours?" She grabbed a stick from between our cages and started drawing the board, glancing back at the other one for reference.

"Andrew. Nice to meet you, Nowi."

{}{}{Anna}{}{}

When you work as a merchant as long as me, roads start to tell stories.

They don't talk to you, that's just silly- if someone starts talking like that, you might want to have a chat with a local healer, or maybe a priest.

Roads are like... paintings. Maybe more like palm readings, or a dry riverbed. You can look at them, and if you know the right stuff, you learn from it. There's all sorts of information bound up in who and what you see, and in what they leave behind.

This road was empty, winding into the distance as it followed the coast. A few dark clouds puffed on the horizon, and our only company was the faint wind from the ocean. When I looked closely, I could see worn ruts in the cobbles, two pairs of lines that described the paths of countless carts before us. I could see scratches, scuffs, and scruffy weeds at the edges of the road. Barring the emptiness, it was a fairly complete story, and one I liked: this road was well-maintained and well-traveled. In other words, it was an important line of trade for Plegia.

Normally this would have meant I'd have plenty of places to ply my wares, earn some extra gold and get my hands on some surplus to sell for even more later. Merchants, travellers, soldiers; they all wanted _something_ , and I intended to profit off of that. Maybe turn one of those wants into a need with some well-placed words, bat my eyelashes as I ask for an extra few silver.

Now though? It was looking like a bust. Empty roads, old scuffs, and an unpleasant feeling in my gut. No profit on my way to get back my source of profit, so he'd better have some good ideas. Worse, it told me that war was coming. Or had already come. There's one surer sign of war than an empty road, and it wasn't a great one.

Horse poop.

Lots and lots of horse poop.

I wrinkled my nose as the thick, acrid scent of it all as I picked through along an empty, cobbled road. "Seems the army's been through," I said casually, glancing over at Lady Tiki, "That, or... Hm." I put a finger to my chin, shifting my grip on the reins. "No, definitely the army."

The Voice of Naga tilted her head, continuing to look out over the road. "That," she nodded curtly, "Or a horse-herder."

Blinking and frowning, I gave her a confused expression. She didn't see it, but she sure felt it. "A horse-herder," I confirmed, voice a bit flat, "In Plegia."

"Good business is everywhere, if you know what to look for," Lady Tiki replied, "Or at least, that is- _blechk._ "

That sound coming out of that particular holy figure startled me. "I only get that kinda noise when I'm about to cut a deal," I said curiously. It brought back good memories, generally about profiting wildly on cheap supplies.

A moment later, I realized what caused Lady Tiki's reaction when a _wall_ of horse-stink slammed into me. "Oh, _blechk,_ " I agreed readily, pinching my nose, "I know horses are useful for war and all, but this is just excessive."

"Thus why I assumed it was a horse-herder. Plegia is, by my recollection, mostly desert. If they wish to invade Ylisse with horses, I would call them mad," Lady Tiki's voice was nasal, and nearly made me laugh. It didn't because the horse poop was way too smelly for that.

"And you wouldn't call a horse-herder mad for herding horses in Plegia? Ew, there's the pile. Who _piles up_ horse poop like that?" It's disgusting to look at, and now it's in my head. Yuck. "Way too organized to be a horse-herder, if you ask me."

She looked at me, green eyes gleaming even as her nose wrinkled. "By the smell, they can't be far from here. Would you like to make a bet on it?"

Oh, a _gamble_? "The Voice of Naga, gambling with a merchant? What would the priesthood say?..." I grinned. "Deal. If you lose, you'll owe me."

"If I win, you shall call me Tiki and not 'Lady Tiki' or 'Voice'," Lady Tiki shot back, sticking out a hand.

Oh, this was easy money. Maybe she could bless some water for us, and I could sell that? Worst-case, in my head, we didn't see the soldiers or the horse-herders and the bet failed.

I took her hand and we shook on it.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

Half an hour up the road we met a horse-herder named Eric. I could not bribe him to say he was in the army, apparently. Peasants of integrity are the worst.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

As the shadows lengthened and the heat started to set in, a faint breeze drifted by, toying with a few locks of my hair.

Lady- The Vo- _Tiki_ drew in a long breath, flicking her hood back with a hooked finger. Green hair tumbled down her shoulders as she smiled, emerald eyes practically glowing in the light. Slowly, she turned to me, lips pursed and eyes furrowed in an unreadably calculating gaze.

"Anna," she breathed, placing her hands on mine, "Anna?"

I blinked, letting out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. Shaking my head, I met her gaze. "Um, what?"

"Give me the reins, Anna," Tiki hissed quietly, working her fingers against mine to get a firm grip on the reins. There was a tension to her movement, like a bowstring drawn taut. "Quickly."

Baffled, and definitely not blushing, I let go. "Don't do anything stupid, Lady- _Tiki_ ," I admonished. I could feel myself shaking, and I couldn't stop. Not from her actions, but from the hum around her, a constant buzz of magic that hovered at the edges of my senses. That hum started to fizz and crackle, sparking and pulsing like a sputtering fire. Something was up.

"You're nervous," I guessed, gripping my legs as she flicked the reins, "That's new."

She looked at me quickly, expression impenetrable. "Take a deep breath through the nose, Anna. Do you smell it?"

Still unsure, I took a long breath, and my eyes snapped wide.

Eleven years since that day, and I still knew _that_ smell quite well. Smoke, acrid and thick even so far away from its source. Only one thing burned like that: People. And Lady Tiki had us aimed right at it.

"Well," I let out that breath, wincing as it wavered. "This could be dangerous. The bet's off if we go through with this, okay?"

Lady Tiki tilted her head. "Hm. No, I quite like it when you call me Tiki."

Ugh.

[][Andrew][]

Noon came around quickly, Sun beating down on everything but us in our cages. Nowi had picked up checkers, bullied me in checkers, and when we switched to chess (which she already knew) she bullied me in chess for an hour. Apparently, in her thousand years of life, she'd played a _lot_ of chess. What idiot expects to win chess with a thousand-year-old dragon? Me. I am the idiot.

"Aaaand checkmate!" Nowi grinned, sliding her knight into position. She looked upwards, mouthing out numbers as she counted on her fingers. "Twenty turns this time. Wow, that was pretty tough!"

"No," I groaned, feeling the rough wooden bars dig against my tunic as I leaned back, "No, Nowi, that wasn't. You _destroyed_ me."

"Aw, but I'm not very good at it," she admonished with a laugh, driving the metaphorical knife further, "You're just a liii-tle worse. With just a few days of practice-" She clicked her tongue slightly, cutting herself off and allowing her grin to become predatory. "And you _will_ play with me, won't you?"

At the edges of my thoughts, a writhing, empty pain made itself known. "I'll get plenty of practice today, I'm sure," I nodded, reaching through the bars to set up the pieces again, "Awfully convenient of them to put these cages so close together."

Off to the side, one of the soldiers mumbled something. All I caught was the word 'prisoner' and only because they said that a lot. Generally when I said something stupid, or just got too mouthy. I tried to grin at that, but I couldn't quite manage it. One of Nowi's long, pointed ears twitched, and her grin faded.

Her tone was different when she spoke again- flatter, calmer. "I don't think they like that very much," she said quietly, "Rude. You even taught them a new game!"

Those feelings reached further inwards, clawing upwards from the gut and reopening wounds I'd forgotten about. I drew a long, deep breath, looking at the pieces on the board- well, chips of wood, marked as pieces by Nowi's disturbingly sharp fingernails. My hand reached out, trembling as it lay itself on a pawn-

Nothing.

No thoughts came to mind, plans caught in a web of sudden anxiety that threatened to suffocate me. I could barely envision _seconds_ into the future; like a wall had made itself known in my mind without revealing its shape or size. Hoping for Gregor to get me out of here with Nowi- that's ridiculous. Especially on such short notice, with no real idea on how to carry it out.

So, drawing deeper into the dry well of calm and comedy, I took a deep breath. Nothing. Deeper.

A spark. _That_ spark. The same from this morning, called back to the forefront.

"Might want to hurry that game along, prisoner," snarked one of the guards, "You won't be able to finish it tomorrow."

And, just like that, it was extinguished. I grimaced, dragging sluggish thoughts onward and moving my pawn forward. What was Grima's game? I couldn't spill the beans if I was dead.

[][][][][][][][]

When the Sun slipped towards the waiting horizon, my hopes slipped as well. Gregor hadn't made himself known- hell, maybe Grima had kept him away. _Or killed him_ , a dark part of me suggested, _he wouldn't have trouble with that, would he?_

Nowi said something, meaning muffled by the dull roar of my thoughts. Each pair of guards that came our way dropped the bottom out of my heart- were they the ones? No, they were just passing by.

"Hey! Don't ignore me!"

Pulling myself together, I looked at Nowi. "What is it?" I asked plainly, glancing back towards the center of camp, "If it's about another game-" My hopes rose at the gleam in her eye, a trickster's gleam that reminded me faintly of Tiki.

She huffed, crossing her arms. In the reddening light of sunset, Nowi's hair was tinged gold- a beautiful color, rippling with each movement. Much easier to look at than the scantily clad child it was attached to. "But I'm _bored_."

For some reason I had been expecting something crazy, something wild. A planned escape, even. No, just-

" _Stop it_ ," she hissed quietly, her expression shifting and sharpening. For a heartbeat, her violet eyes thinned to that of a dragon's. " _Do you want to get out of here or not_?"

The spark in my heart returned with a vengeance, bringing a heat that threatened to burst out of my chest. Not trusting myself to speak, I nodded.

{}{}{Anna}{}{}

I was ready to turn back at the first sign of trouble. I had countless excuses prepared, and a few tricks up my sleeve that should give us safe passage if things go south. We weren't leaving the main road anyways, so we had a reason to be there. I might have to sell off some goods at a discount, but that can come out of Andrew's share of the money.

So when we crested a hill and saw the source of the smoke, I was almost... relieved. A little disturbed, but relieved.

"So many dead..." Lady Tiki murmured, "What caused this?"

What had spilled out before us was the clear (er, sooty) remains of an encampment. A big one, too; the kind I would stay outside of and sell trinkets 'at a discount for soldiers'. A lone woman, no matter how many daggers she has up her sleeves, does not go inside a war camp.

Soldiers are a nasty bunch. Their gold was as good as anyone else's, so long as I avoided asking where it came from. What do you think I am, an idiot?

"A fire, obviously," I remarked, using the pause to evaluate the crumbled camp. "Looks like it started near the edge- see how it's even darker over there?" I pointed towards the far edge, near a lump of twisted metal.

"Perhaps, yes," she agreed, grimacing, "Though these Plegians stood as our enemies, no doubt, I feel some sympathy. Burning is... not a pleasant way to go."

It was then that Lady Tiki chose to flick the reins again, sending us down towards the burnt encampment. Blackened wooden spikes, grasping skyward, formed a broken circle around a sooty grid of smudges. The remains of a much larger tent fluttered in the wind, the red pennant of Plegia dangling by a thread from the peak. This place had burned, and burned _quickly_ \- and from the smell, not everyone had made it out. I wrinkled my nose.

" _Tiki_ ," I said amicably, feeling a little awkward as I grasped at the reins, "Let's take a bit of a detour, shall we? There's nothing here, after all." What did she even think was here, honestly? Rushing towards potential danger like that would get one or both of us killed.

"Most likely you, I am sorry to say," Tiki replied absently, "I am quite difficult to kill. Just stand behind me and I am sure you will emerge unharmed."

Huffing, I crossed my arms. "Still a terrible idea. Best case, I earn almost nothing. Worst case, we get imprisoned by the Plegian Army for some reason or another." The oily, acrid aroma of ash wafted across us again, and I coughed. "Plus, it smells bad."

"Really," Tiki said flatly, tugging on the reins. "If Andrew was captured by the Grimleal, he would have passed through here. Surely, you want to rescue Andrew?"

Uncrossing my arms and leaning back, I rolled my eyes. "As long as I'm not risking my _life_ , yeah. He's profitable to have around."

Tiki merely hummed in response, the sound harmonizing with the buzz of her magic that pulsed below the surface. She flicked the reins, shifting in her seat. The horse tossed its head, pace stuttering before it started to speed up. "If you're allowing this, you must feel safe enough to continue."

I grunted in response. It would've been better if I never ran into Andrew, at this rate- less profit, maybe, but so much less risk. And one hundred percent less dragons to deal with, at the very least. Then again, I would still have ended up going to Plegia, and who knows what would have happened?

"Interesting. It seems the main road is clear enough to ride through- how easily startled is this horse? The smell alone sends most running to the hills."

Jumping a little bit, I gave Tiki a glare. "Don't startle me like that," I grumbled, putting a finger to my chin, "I bought a horse, not a warhorse. They'll-" pausing, I looked downward. "She'll startle unless we lead her through."

Tilting her head, Tiki pulled the reins, letting the cart drift to a stop. Then, handing those reins to me, Tiki leapt gracefully to the ground and walked in front of the horse. "Would you like me to lead you through, as well?"

Despite myself, I laughed. " _Please_. I'm no common mare- more like a prize-winning racehorse. Plus, won't you need the reins to lead the horse?" I lifted the reins with one hand, raising an eyebrow as Tiki's mouth twitched into a smirk.

With a huff, Tiki walked back towards me and held her hand out. "Very well then. Hand-" Her hand closed, and she whipped back around towards the ruined camp.

There was a tension in her posture that made _me_ twitch, one hand going for a dagger. "What is it, Lady Tiki?"

" _Grima_ ," she hissed, fingers tensing and spreading, "The stench of his twisted magic- I can _feel_ it." As she spoke, I felt a pulse in the ambient magic, a faint but firm wave rippling from Tiki. The ever-present hum quieted, and for a moment I almost _missed_ it.

Deciding not to worry about the Fell Dragon, I sighed and picked the next best topic. Her description nagged at my understanding of magic, "A stench you can feel? How did you not notice it earlier- how am _I_ not able to notice it?" Ambient magic is barely noticeable, but changes in it are blatant. Maybe Tiki's magical senses are just better?

"Your kind- humans, that is- cannot feel magic as dragons do. The signature is too weak for..." she paused, sticking her hand out for the reins. "It is not strong enough for him to be here. Let us move on, preferably before he returns."

That didn't sit well with me at all. I did agree with the sentiment of getting out of here, at least, so I offered up the reins. "Didn't Andrew say Grima hadn't returned yet, or something?"

"Well, he is here, and without mo- Naga's power, or at the very least the rest of my own magic, I am poorly matched to the Fellblood," Tiki explained, taking the reins and walking in front of the horse. Her tone shifted, becoming speculative as the cart started to roll. "And yet, I feel Grima's body sealed at Dragon's Table. Did he... no, that's implausible."

She trailed off, and with nothing better to do, I hopped off the cart and joined Tiki at the front. The still smoking skeleton of the camp loomed closer, and closer... "He came back in time, didn't he," I guessed, wondering how I was going to get out of this mess, "Looks like Andrew knew a lot more than he let on."

"And you were using him for potential profit, so I think it is quite justified," Tiki nodded, pulling her hood back and letting her hair go free, "His end goal was the Shepherds, correct?"

I grinned, ignoring the little pit in my stomach. "Right on the money, milady. He was entertaining as well, so it was a plus. Maybe the Shepherds busted him out? He said something about other time travellers."

Tilting her head, Tiki frowned. "It seems plausible, but-"

A seared pile of ash shifted, a handful of charcoaled planks clattering to the packed soil. Tiki dropped the reins and strode forward, her pace accelerating as the 'pile' resolved itself into a person. They coughed repeatedly, leaning on something equally sooty as they staggered to their feet. Making a vain attempt to dust themselves off, they chuckled hoarsely. "Oh, excellent. A savior- no, two!"

Tiki stopped short of the man, and I mentally prepared myself. I was _not_ bringing someone else on board unless there was serious profit to be made.

"I feel like I get interrupted with alarming frequency," Tiki muttered, clearing her throat, "What happened here, might I ask? What started this?" One of her hands was firmly behind her back, palm towards me with straight fingers. She wanted me to stop, for some reason, and I did. My unease grew with every passing moment. We needed to get out of here, and quickly.

"Third Company-" they burst into a fit of coughing, nearly collapsing backwards into the ash. Despite that, their posture was rigid and practised; this was clearly a hardened fighter. Hopefully not _dangerous_ , but I put a hand to a dagger anyways. "Third Company brought in a Manakete, you see. Turns out she still had a Dragonstone."

Knowing Plegia, they'd been planning to sell her off to a noble at a high price. Slavers disgusted me. "That explains the burning," I said, evaluating the sooty remnants around me, "Canvas tents don't usually burn that easily. Dragon fire, though? Yeah, that could do it."

Their eyes snapped to me, burning and crimson red. He grinned, just a little too widely. "They had a friend along, too. You might know them, actually."

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was the last of the 12 chapters I intended to upload on November 8th, 2020. I will upload more later, but for now I'm getting back to writing the story itself.


	13. Blood and/or Ketchup

[][Andrew][]

" _Stop it," she hissed quietly, her expression shifting and sharpening. For a heartbeat, her violet eyes thinned to that of a dragon's. "Do you want to get out of here or not?"_

_The spark in my heart returned with a vengeance, bringing a heat that threatened to burst out of my chest. Not trusting myself to speak, I nodded._

"Just after sunset," Nowi whispered, twirling a curl of hair as she sat cross-legged in her cage, "A man will come to take me somewhere else, alright? And once he takes me out..." She grinned like a kid offered extra dessert. "I'll use _this_."

Delicately, carefully, she brought one hand to the collar of her cape and slid two fingers between barely-visible seams. "The meanies broke my stone," she pouted, violet eyes twinkling, "But one of them dropped a shard of it, and I took it!" She produced a thin, fragile-looking chunk of purplish-green stone, frowning as she clasped it in her palms. "It's not much," she said quietly, "And I can only do it once or twice before it breaks."

For one of them to drop part of a Dragonstone like that- hell, after they went through the effort of breaking it? It was probably Gregor- or maybe they didn't know a broken stone was still useable. I certainly didn't know that. When I see Anna and Tiki again, maybe I can ask Tiki about it?

"Did you fall asleep with your eyes open? Hellooo?"

I blinked, shaking myself back into reality with a thin smile. "Oh, uh, sorry. I do that sometimes. Did I miss something important?"

She raised a single delicate eyebrow before sticking out her tongue at me. "They're going to take you away, right? But I'll come for you. I just need a _liiitle_ more magic before I turn into a big dragon and breathe fire."

So it took effort on their part to do it? I suppose that makes sense. Tiki needed a focus, and the power of the Azure, but she was an exception because her power was... Focus, Andrew. "I'm not complaining about the rescue, honestly. Thank you in advance, Nowi. Be careful."

Giving me a strange look, Nowi slipped the shard of stone back into her collar. "You're the one that should be careful. Humans are squishy."

A quote drifted across my thoughts, forcing a chuckle out of me as I felt the tension in my body ease. "Do not meddle in the affairs of dragons," I quoted, "For we are crunchy and good with ketch... salt." Did they have ketchup here? When was ketchup invented?

Nowi giggled, covering her mouth with one hand and closing her eyes. "I like that one!" she opened her eyes again and made a face. "I don't know, though. I don't eat humans unless I _really_ need to." Maybe I could invent ketchup or something- wait, then she might like eating humans. Hopefully she's too nice for that?

"That's both concerning and relieving," I admitted, leaning back in my cage, "I'll make sure to stand behind you, then."

It was easy to be casual about it then. It was less easy to be casual about it when two guards dragged me out of my cage without a word and marched me to possible doom.

[][][][][][][][]

The tent was strangely silent as the soldiers sat me down. They left quickly, allowing the space to be filled by the sound of a pen on parchment.

 _Scritch, scratch_.

Robin- no, Grima- sat at his desk, scribbling away at forms and writing what I could only assume were battle plans. Or, I thought, he's trying to build tension. Trying to make me crack, because he promised to torture me. I forced down a smirk, which was unsurprisingly easy given the line I was walking right now.

On one hand, the more he stalls, the more likely I am to actually crack. On the other, Nowi should be out of her cage soon, hopefully with enough magic in her to turn into a dragon. Did she naturally regenerate magic, or did she have to draw it in somehow? I should ask her. She might not actually know, but it's worth a shot.

The important part is that Grima's stalling, and it's me who's getting the time they need. How can I drag this out- oh, who am I kidding. I know exactly how to drag this out. This dude's from the future.

"Grima, did I ever invent ketchup?"

And just like that, the tent was deathly quiet. Grima sat there, white hair dangling in strands as he continued to stare at his paperwork. "Ketchup," the Fell Dragon intoned, rolling the word around in his mouth, "Ketchup."

If you can't blind them with brilliance, baffle them with bullshit. I chose both- blind them with brilliant baffling bullshit. "Yes, ketchup. You know, sweet tomato sauce? Goes good with grilled cheeses and french fries?"

Grima placed his pen back in the inkwell and let out a long, tired sigh. "Andrew," he said, voice measured and quiet, "I am going to disembowel you and eat your soul under the full moon tonight, if you don't cooperate. I might even do it anyways, if you try my patience. Out of respect for who I was, and who you will be, I wanted to give you a moment to tell me directly. Maybe even work with me, avoid the apocalypse."

I could feel the hair on the back of my neck prickling, and I had to grip the arms of my chair so I didn't cower before his blood-red gaze. Gulping audibly, I nodded. "If I told you, we'd all die. You-" I coughed, fighting the tightness in my throat- "I know that."

"And yet," Grima continued, ignoring me completely as he drummed his pointed nails on the table, "You take this honor- one I did not afford for your liege, your lover, or your closest friend- and ask me about _ketchup_ and _french fries_. I don't even know what a 'french' is."

Have you ever wanted to laugh, cry, and scream at the same time? Pretty much that, yeah.

My breath caught just short of a shudder. I had fallen for someone- and they had fallen for me, in turn. I had earned the respect of a omnicidal maniac of a dragon, and I had...

I'd meant something to this world, in the future. I was someone. Will be someone, if I don't die here and now.

Maybe I'll even be lucky enough to fall in love twice.

Something cold slipped down my cheek, dragging me back to reality even as I struggled to hold it together. "I think we both know how it is," I whispered, voice wavering as I met his gaze, "I've seen this all play out, Grima. They win, with or without me."

"We'll see about that," Grima hummed, his nails now gouging the paper and wooden table as he tapped, "We'll see."

There was a pause, a shift in tone- a silent agreement.

Bending to the side, Grima came back up with a sheathed sword. The Duke, in fact. "Let's start simple, Andrew. Things you won't mind answering, because otherwise I will rip them from your dying breaths."

Seems reasonable. "So, The Duke. Did I call it that-"

"You called it the Duke then as well. How it survived over ten years of war, I do not know." he looked off to the side, lips twitching into a fanged smile. "Never could get the Duke's secrets out of you, even before I found my destiny. So, tell me, Andrew-"

He unsheathed the long, narrow blade, running a finger along its length. "Who gave it to you?"

It was just a sword. I'd had it when I got here, and it didn't seem like anything special. Weapons broke quickly in Fire Emblem games, though, so... "It's from my homeland, Grima. I'm sure you've heard that one before."

"Yes, yes," Grima nodded, dismissing it with a wave of his hand, "But you were a skilled liar. Are a skilled liar, possibly. There is unnatural magic in this metal, Andrew, and I want to know how it got there."

"Unnatural, huh?" I confirmed, raising an eyebrow, "To me, all of it's unnatural- There's no magic where I come from, Grima. Maybe the sword picked it up when I passed the Mila Tree or something?" Keep it up, Andrew. He gains nothing from this, but I get _time_ out of it.

He tapped the table again, burying it through his papers before bringing it up to point at me. "So you're an idiot, apparently," Grima concluded, rolling his eyes, "And Anna is an awful teacher. As expected. I have traveled the world as man and dragon, and this magic still defies my understanding."

"And you want to use it for something, don't you," I guessed. "I was hoping I'd get the primer on magic at some point, honestly. Maybe you can give me the rundown?" Hopefully he'd explain where he was going with this, because I was starting to get a little lost. Should I tell him that there's a paper stuck to his finger? He's probably noticed.

Taking the paper off his finger- so he did notice, good- Grima smirked before continuing. "So how's Naga doing these days?"

I blinked.

"Pardon, could you repeat that?"

Shrugging, Grima sheathed The Duke and dropped it off his desk. "You're either a brilliant actor or you really do have no idea what's going on."

"Let's go with the latter. I'm an actor, but I'm not _that_ great." I was at my best during musicals, because I could be even more ridiculously dramatic there. That doesn't help you look death in the eye and lie to their face.

"So I'll have to ask Naga myself," Grima mused, "Do you think she'll bleed when I cut her open? Her body is long rotted, but so was mine."

Gruesome images flickered through my thoughts, and with a shuddering gulp I forced them deeper. They'd surface again, but now was not the time to lose my cool. Hell, if I wasn't careful, he'd drag something out of me before I knew what I was saying. I had a lover, he said...

"So how's my kid doing, then?"

His gaze hardened, as much as a predator's gaze can- it reminded me of Tiki, actually. Like a wolf sizing up a fat sheep. Stroking my chin, I realized I had something else in common with that sheep- I needed a shave.

"You're trying to buy time, aren't you," he said, steepling his fingers as a chill ran down my spine, "You think Nowi's going to escape, get her Dragonstone from Gregor, and you'll be able to run away."

My blood ran cold even as a spark burned in my heart. He knew, of course he knew- but he also didn't know. "And you're letting me, Grima?" I asked, because he'd see right through it if I managed a bald-faced lie, "How's that help you?"

"She'll be executed in a few minutes, of course," he smirked, voice smoothing out, "She doesn't know that, of course. And once that's all said and done, I'll bring Gregor in here and kill him myself."

"You'll let them go free if I cooperate," I guessed, shifting uncomfortably underneath his burning gaze, "Or, more likely, you'll-"

Raising a finger and an eyebrow, Grima nodded. "Kill them anyways, because they're Shepherds, and then torture you. Because you wouldn't give your life for them anyways, would you?"

Everything _stopped_. My thoughts ground to a halt and the tent closed in around me. A blackened, cutting pain ached in my chest, grasping blindly at the little spark of hope resting there. "Of cou-" _I wouldn't_. "That's what-" _I'm here to live, not to die._ I can't matter if I don't get anywhere, but-

Grima didn't laugh so much as he did _cackle_ , sound slamming into me like a wall of knives. "I figured you weren't too different, Andrew. You put up a strong front, but you're a coward." With all the urgency of a sloth, Grima stood up, languidly walking around his desk.

I reached inwards, searching for courage. It didn't have to be real- was it ever real? An actor can put on a mask, become someone else, and maybe there was something there that could stare down Grima. Stare down my death and do the right thing.

What was the right thing, though? Buy my way out with knowledge, damning the world?

I reached inwards, begging for strength, and found nothing.

"I might consider letting you go free, you know," Grima drawled, drawing ever closer as he dragged a clawed finger across his desk, "If you tell me where the future children are. Simple as that."

The rough wood of the chair dug into my palms. Heat bloomed in my chest, a burning, agonizing thing that seared my bones and sputtered at my fingertips. Sharp fingertips grasped my chin, drawing blood as Grima tilted my head upwards.

"Simple as that," the wolf promised the sheep, "I will honor my word."

I came to a decision.

()()Tiki()()

The Fell Dragon pounced, a blur of scorched cloth and gleaming red eyes. His Levin Sword crackled, lightning lancing outward as his other hand reached for my throat.

A human would have died then and there, in the time it took for a heart to beat.

In half of a heartbeat, I saw the fluidity of his motion- the practiced, measured nature of his feral attack. I heard the crunch of ashen splinters as his boots left the soil. I called on thousands of years of life, allowing them to echo forwards and ghost over his movement.

In three quarters of a heartbeat, I slipped to the side and drew my sword as Marth would have, watching as Grima drifted past me. With a twirl, I brought my sword hammering downward onto his back. _Dancing Blade_ , Marth had called it.

Of course, I was not the only one with this inhuman swiftness. The Fell Dragon twisted, my sword only grazing his ashen cloak. He grinned at me, eyes turning to draconic slits, and opened his fanged mouth to speak.

Pity. It seemed he thought I was an honorable opponent. I took a half-step forward, bringing him back into range as I continued into my second, horizontal slash. Once again, he managed to avoid harm, but this time I felt my weapon taste his armor, barely a hair from his flesh. Another strike- I bent down as he danced backwards, diving into a quick series of jabs and slashes that snaked through his frantic guard, striking steel and flesh alike.

Three heartbeats was all it took.

I grinned at his wild, animalistic hiss, stepping backwards with a bloodied sword. "Grima," I nodded, eyes flickering between his feet and his hands, "The centuries haven't been kind to you, have they? I much preferred you as a dragon."

"La- _Tiki_!" Anna shouted, somewhere to my right, "Are you crazy?"

"It would not be the first time a Dragon was called mad," I hummed, watching as Grima collected himself, "Though it's been a long time since I was the mad one."

" _You_ ," Grima hissed, Levin Sword crackling as fell power hummed through it, "You're not supposed to be here."

"And we put you in the ground a thousand years ago," I replied easily, catching Anna's movement out of the corner of my eye, "This will be over with shortly, Anna. Just go back to the cart and wait for me."

A dragon's pride is a terrible thing. It is what brought our kind to their greatest heights, and dug the pit of our darkest failures. Medeus became the Shadow Dragon to protect our kind from humanity, failing to see how his actions caused us to dwindle further. Pride is a wrathful, powerful force- and something Grima had in spades. It turned us into animals, like a hint of the degeneration that haunted our species.

So I called to it, let him pounce once more, sword outstretched and lancing lightning. Leaping back, gritting my teeth as stray sparks found their way into me, I brought up my sword. We clashed head-on, steel against enchanted gold. He was shorter than me, but not by much, and I sought leverage by stepping in close.

With a grimace, Grima locked his eyes on mine. Sparks traveled up his sword and into mine, skirling off my hands to minimal effect. "It seems Andrew came prepared, to bring you along. What did he promise you- a bright future? My death? Naga's throne?"

"It seems we have different opinions on Andrew and his importance to my decision making," I mused, trying to keep the strain from my voice. Grima was, even weakened, a hardy opponent. We were there for Andrew, but my investment was my own. "Naga can keep her throne, _cousin_."

His boot lashed out in a kick. I spun to the side, taking a glancing blow as I drew his momentum downward and forward. Carrying that spin, I brought the edge of my blade through his side, steel tasting flesh. It seemed he was a clever opponent, but not quite-

There was a blooming pain in my midsection as he turned and slammed me in the chest with the pommel of his sword. I staggered backwards, and in that moment of weakness he had a hand on my throat.

Grima snarled, teeth sharpening to bloody points as he pinned me bodily against a charred log. Pricks of splintered wood dug into my cape and tunic, a handful reaching my skin. His pride was animalistic- the Dragon in him was triumphant, roaring, and begging to get out. Purple flames trickled up his arm, tickling at my neck and caressing my chin. Where it touched, skin gave way to the white scales of my true form. "I never got to kill you last time, 'Lady Tiki'. Half-truths and deception are no better than what your mother touts."

He is a fool for containing himself, and I could see him breaking at the seams. I grinned back, showing more teeth than a mere human mouth could contain.

The fire grew hotter, darker, and more twisted as he shoved me into the pillar- an act which would have broken a man's spine.

"It has been countless moons since I last felt a dragon's fire on my hide, cousin," I hissed, gripping his arms with mine, "But perhaps it has been longer since you last remembered how it burned you."

Drawing on what little Divine magic lived within me, I spat an ember of white fire directly into the Fell Dragon's eyes.

[][Andrew][]

Grima was right. I was a coward. Willing to sell the hides of others to save my own. "I'm considering it," I said, throat constricting painfully as his hands dug into my chin, "I know where most of them _could_ be." Not quite a lie, not quite the truth. I didn't know when they'd arrive, but I knew where.

He grinned at me toothily. "Really, then? Do tell, old friend."

But I wouldn't sell them out this easily. I hadn't heard a scream, hadn't heard anything to prove Nowi had actually been executed. Hell, Grima might be bullshitting me. But he had a hand to my throat, and I didn't have much choice. "L-" I can't do this. I _won't_.

Humming an unfamiliar tune, Grima sank his claws just a little bit deeper.

"L-Laurent," I gritted out, jaw aching and mind screaming, "Laurent. He's here already."

There was a... buzz. A hum of _something_ , but not a sound or a feeling. It was a buzz that pulsed at the back of my head, familiar yet different. With it, the spark in my heart returned full-force, tension easing from my aching frame. As Grima grinned, loosening his grip, I knew what I had to do.

"In fact, Grima," I smiled against the pain, "He's been here for _years_." Take the bait, Grima. I know you want to.

A dragon roared, and Grima released me completely, cursing all the while. He walked to the side of my chair, looking out towards the entrance to the tent. "I should kill you right now, Andrew," he sputtered, pulling out a Levin Sword from inside his coat, "In fact, I wi-"

Nowi chose that moment to burst into the tent in all her draconic glory, punting the Fell Dragon through the tent wall with a well-placed kick. She somehow managed to look smug as she folded her leafy-green wings back onto her pure white frame.

"I don't like meanies," Nowi concluded, her voice resonating strangely in her minivan-sized body, "And you're a meanie, mister Hierophant."

A familiar redhead trailed in behind him, chuckling as he wiped blood from his sword. "Yes, Hierophant is big meanie!" He boomed, warm green eyes scanning me carefully. "Ah, you would be friend of Nowi, yes? Friend of Nowi is friend of Gregor!"

I blinked owlishly, getting out of my chair on unsteady legs. "Nice to meet you, Gregor. The name's Andrew," I replied, voice as frantic as my heartbeat. Gregor looked almost exactly like his art in the game- square features, short spiky hair, and a gigantic smile. His accent was also identical to that of Captain Boris, which I filed away for a less important moment. He stuck out a (slightly) bloodied hand, and I shook it.

"Gregor brought me a _whole new_ Dragonstone, can you believe it?" Nowi pranced excitedly, white scales gleaming in the firelight from outside, "I can be big and scary whenever I want! Rawr!" Only, because Nowi was a _dragon_ , it came out as a genuine roar.

I took a few steps back, catching Gregor's bemused expression. "Whenever you want," I agreed readily, "But G- the Hierophant can also be scary. So let's get out of here before he wakes up." Even if I really did want to know if I invented ketchup.

Outside the tent, Grima groaned. I took that moment to grab the Duke from the floor and hook it to my belt.

Gregor nodded, crossing his arms. "Hm. Hierophant still owe Gregor money, but Gregor thinks it is time to go, yes?"

"Aww," Nowi whined, turning around to breathe fire at a few oncoming guards, tail launching one of them well out of sight, "But they're _mean_. And mean people should be on fire. Or stomped on."

 _Now_ she chooses to be childish? I dug through my brain again, trying to remember Nowi's supports. How did the Shepherds deal with her? "If we don't get out of here soon, Nowi, I won't be alive to teach you any more games. Or play any games with you, for that matter," I blurted, damning myself to a nonlethal Duck-Duck-Dragon hell.

Her purple eyes twinkled as she grinned. I swore to never again make a Dragon smile like that, because it scared me nearly as much as Grima did. "Fiiine," she huffed, storming outside of the tent, "But I'll get rid of these meanies first. Rawr!"

I turned, making eye contact with Gregor. "So," I said, trying to sound casual, "How do you feel about joining Ylisse?"

{}{}{Anna}{}{}

I had half a mind to just steer the cart away and get the hell out of here.

Grima- the Fell Dragon, the boogeyman scary enough to start a Crusade, was here. He was alive, in the shape of a man. And the Voice of Naga had spat in his eye, setting him on fire.

They terrified me, both of them.

"I will slice you open," he promised, releasing Tiki as he staggered back, "I will burn you and make the Mila Tree your pyre. And I will _enjoy_ it."

Tiki hummed in response, brushing charcoal off her outfit and picking up Grima's Levin Sword. "Would you be able to sell this, Anna?" she asked, turning towards me.

White scales covered her body from collarbone to the base of her jaw, glimmering in the sunlight. Her eyes were slit, her teeth were sharp, and I did not enjoy feeling like a cow at a farmer's market. But she _did_ have a point, Levin Swords are pretty valuable. So the Anna family pride won out, and I did the calculations. "Nah," I decided, waving a hand, "It's probably not in good shape at this point."

"Pity," Tiki frowned, and with a single movement planted the sword directly through Grima's chest.

The Fell Dragon fell over, twitching silently as white fire crept across his cloak.

"Did you just-" Did she just kill the Fell Dragon? Didn't you need some sort of fancy sword for that?

"He'll be back up soon enough," Tiki shrugged, "We'd best get a move on." As I watched, the scales faded away, revealing normal skin underneath.

Well, if you put it that way... I tugged on the reins, leading the horses down the path with a bit more resistance than before. "He looks pretty dead to me," I said, "You stabbed him through the chest and _set him on fire_."

Grima's body twitched, spurts of black flame dribbling from his hands. Magic thrummed through the air, and Tiki grimaced. "As you can see, it didn't work. That felt like a complete spell, and I'd rather not be around to see what it does."

Now that was something I could agree with. Dark Magic, and the residue it left, always left a sour taste in my mouth.

She gestured at her midsection for a moment as we finally passed the body. I handed her one of the reins, sidling over a bit so I didn't need to be very close to her. "I have been similarly injured before, and I fear Grima's recovery is stronger than mine."

I raised an eyebrow. I didn't plan to get involved in dealing with the Fell Dragon, so it didn't matter much to me anyways. "How many times have you been 'killed', then?"

"Three, maybe four times," Tiki hummed, "I would show you, but the only scar that has not yet healed would require me to undress. I doubt you need to see it."

Oh, no, I did _not_ need that image in my head right now.

" _And where are you going, ladies?_ "

A sandy, hoarse voice drifted across the landscape, sending cold shivers down my spine as it grasped at my mind. "Tiki," I whispered, free hand going for a dagger, "Seems like we'll find out what the spell was anyways."

"Get on the cart, Anna," Tiki shot back, voice curt and sharp, "We're going to try and get away as quickly as possible."

She seemed concerned. I did not like it when the Voice of Naga was concerned, because it meant something was about to make me a high risk investment. "He summoned some of those Risen, didn't he," I speculated, grabbing the other rein from her and leaping onto the cart, "Well, that's just great. You'll owe me after this, you know."

" _So_ _ **rude**_ _of you,_ " the sandy voice admonished, louder this time, " _Not to introduce yourselves. Lord Grima is going to have a headache when he wakes up, and that's going to give_ _ **me**_ _a headache. That's rude, too._ "

I flicked the reins as Tiki clambered on, going straight for the back of the cart. "That is no ordinary servant of Grima. I may need to borrow a Fire Tome," she said quietly, "Or several of them."

"What _is_ it, Tiki?" I hissed back, "Do I even want to know?" The cart started rolling, horses skittish as they got up to speed. Crates rattled in the back, and my nerves started to steady.

"Don't turn around, Anna. _Do not_. You don't want to involve yourself in this war, and it's best you don't look," Tiki explained, raising her voice, "Serve your master first, dead one. I know the contract of your kind."

" _Allow me to introduce myself,_ " it said, a rough whisper in my ear, " _Because I'd hate to be rude_." Don't look back. _Don't look back_.

I looked back.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lied. Here's one more chapter today; I totally didn't forget I already had the document prepared or anything.


	14. A Tactical Perspective

:|:|:Robin:|:|:

Night was the best time for plans, in my opinion.

In the light of day, we forged paths and marched from point to point in pursuit of Emmeryn. And once we saved her, I would have to turn my focus to the war as a whole. Chrom was too focused, and I owed him too much, for anything else to be true.

At night, though, I could scratch away at strategy after strategy, inkwells running dry and quills wearing to nubs. I could make a mountain of crumpled paper and not waste a single moment of anyone else's time. When I was stressed, I could brew up some peach tea and calm myself down.

For the second time that night, my inkwell was empty. I tossed away another hastily sketched battlefield. Kellam would have been left without support to deal with mages, and the whole formation was too slow to halt an execution. It was to be expected that my pile of scrapped plans was larger than usual. I just hoped I wouldn't run out of paper before we got there, because it was a real risk at that point. Though it wasn't nearly as bad, I was also at risk of running out of peach tea, and given Maribelle seemed to be the only one who ever had it, I'd have to convince her to share.

Leaning over to reach into my stock, I discovered a more pressing issue: I was completely out of ink, _again_. Cordelia had requisitioned more for me, bless her, but wouldn't let me keep it in my tent. At that point, I had to have wasted at least an hour of planning time walking back and forth from where ink was kept. It gave me a chance to stretch my legs, though, and given one was already asleep, walking there wasn't all bad.

Setting my quill down, I stretched my sore arms and back with a groan. I winced as something popped, and resolved to ask Maribelle about it- Lissa would be upset with me for not sleeping again, so Maribelle's grumbling was preferable. Sliding my chair backwards, I slipped on my favorite coat, and stepped out into the icy cold of desert night. The desert cold was something I adored, even as I hated the cold of Regna Ferox.

Maybe I'd enjoyed living in Plegia before I lost my memories? With a snort, I pulled the hood up on my Grimleal robe. My heart sang for Plegia as much as it hated the place, a musical blend of patriotism and fear that hadn't been swept away with the rest of my old life. Once we rescued Emmeryn and ended this farce of a war, I supposed, it would be possible for me to ask around and see if I was anyone important.

My first memory surfaced, just for a moment, which told me it was about time I got moving. Worrying about strange events could wait for when I knew who that sorcerer was. I finally started to make my way towards the middle of camp, where valuables such as our supply caravan and Chrom were held. Short of tying the Prince of Ylisse down, it was the best Frederick and I could do to keep him from wandering off and coming back with strange new friends.

Yes, Gaius was a boon to our cause- clambering up walls and slipping through the ranks with nary a whisper before stabbing someone in the back. Yes, those mercenaries from Ferox had a surprisingly good moral code. But no, letting the _Prince of Ylisse_ wander off on his own was just asking for trouble, even if Marth was probably skulking somewhere to keep an eye on him. Even if someone would swoop in to save the day nearly every time he was in danger.

Thinking about it, I began to suspect that Chrom was just a very lucky man.

Skirting around a campfire- Frederick's, if the size was anything to go by- I slipped into the quartermaster's tent and directly into something soft. That soft something had metal under it, and it gave a startled squeak as we stumbled in different directions. Given the pitch, it was probably a woman, and given the _metal_ , it was a woman in armor. Sully would be swearing rather than _squeaking_ , narrowing it down to Sumia or Cordelia. Sumia was asleep (in Chrom's tent, I grumbled to myself), so it had to be Cordelia.

Turning around in a swirl of red hair, she greeted me with tired red eyes and a distracted smile. "Oh, is that you, Robin? Are you out of ink again? Or is it tea this time? We're out of that, but next time around I'll be sure to stock more." One hand rested on her hip as she pushed a few stray locks of hair out of her eyes, and her smile widened. "Well, you know where the ink is, and I'm not the one that has to ask Maribelle if it's tea. Don't take more than three bottles of ink, alright?

It was, quite consistently at this hour of the night, Cordelia. "Three, Cordelia?" I grumbled, stepping around her with a quick smile, "That's hardly enough to last me the night."

"And it shouldn't, you know," she shot back, vanishing behind a stack of crates, "Prince Chrom said you should sleep."

Chrom wanted me healthy and alive. He also wanted Emmeryn to be healthy and alive. I could be alive, and with enough planning, guarantee that Emmeryn was as well. Simple arithmetic: exchange my health for her alive-ness. "Of course, Cordelia. I'll be careful," I told her, slipping four pots of ink into my coat.

Three days on two hours of sleep each was my limit. I was on day two. With some of the darker tea brews, I could make it four, but I usually needed to sleep for quite a long while after that.

Of course, from the bags under her eyes, Cordelia hadn't been sleeping much either. We had other pegasus knights who could get the job done, but so close to our goal? We needed a perfectionist. "Have you checked the scouting rota? I put you up for an early rotation, but if you're going to be busy in here-"

"I saw it." I saw her bright red hair between the stacks for a moment, and heard the scratching of a quill on parchment. "And you wanted me to bring Gaius along?"

Making my way back to the front of the tent, firelight flickering through the tent flaps, I nodded. "Your eyes are good, but his are better. It was that or Virion. And after last time," emphasis on _last time_ , "I decided a change was in order."

I could feel myself smiling as Cordelia huffed. "We got along well, you know. I think he actually improved my mood. He even gave me some lovely teas- maidenhair, the one you use from time to time? He has some too, though he doesn't drink it."

Maidenhair tea was not exactly easy to get, but it didn't surprise me that Virion had some. It was an excellent way of dealing with certain types of cramps. "Yes, but scouting isn't so useful if anyone with ears can hear you coming well in advance," I explained, looking back over my shoulder. As she fiddled with what appeared to be a poorly-sealed crate of jars, another topic came to mind. I'd been working all night, and would continue to work until I fell asleep on my desk. I could spare a little bit of time. "How's the javelin work going, by the way?"

"Oh!" she started, her whole posture straightening, "You were right- the balance was weighted too far back. I drew up a few plans so I could make a better one-" she sighed, giving me a rolling shrug. It always impressed me how clever she was. "But out here, in the desert? We don't have the materials or the time to spare. Once we bring the Exalt home, I'll get right on it."

"And we _will_ be bringing her home," I agreed, turning away, "Get some rest, Cordelia. You'll need it." For the sake of Ylisse. For Chrom's sake.

:|:|:|:|:|:|:|:|:|:

I was nearly through my second bottle of ink when someone breezed into the tent and placed their hands on my desk. "It's awfully late for anyone to be awake, you know," I said, forcing back a yawn, "Gotta... gotta get ready for tomorrow."

"You," Cordelia said curtly, her long red hair dangling dangerously close to wet ink on parchment, "Should be asleep. Chrom's orders-"

"But you're here for the ink," I nodded, still scratching away at my work, "Chrom wouldn't be pleased to hear two of his Shepherds are sleep deprived, and you're worse at hiding it than I am."

Her resigned sigh spoke for her. She drummed her fingers on the desk, a rhythm and vibration that was just a bit too comforting. The pause, too, was comfortable. I could feel myself slipping, but she broke it before I had to say anything. "Just give me the bottle, Robin. I don't like doing this."

Hopefully I could make this last bottle last. I took out the fourth bottle of ink, finally looking up at her as I handed it over. She _did_ look tired, with dark bags under her eyes and a haziness to her expressions. Did I look like that? "You really should get some sleep, Cordelia. You're up early tomorrow, unless you want me to move you to a later slot."

A smile twitched on her face as she shook her head, hand clasping around the bottle of ink. "Thank you, but I'll be fine. Make sure to, um," she paused to yawn, which of course caused me to yawn as well, "Get some sleep as well. You're looking pretty out of it."

I probably did, and I didn't really trust myself to comment on it. "See you after sunrise, then?"

"After sunrise," she agreed, striding out of the tent.

I was exhausted, and she knew it. Chrom would know, too, but he'd just be a little upset about it. Not like I had a choice in the matter- Emmeryn _must_ live. I owed Chrom too much.

:|:|:|:|:|:|:|:|:|:

When I woke, it was not to the rays of dawn bleeding through canvas. It was not to the clatter and chatter of soldiers, the sizzling and crackling of fires as breakfast was had.

No. It couldn't have been more than an hour after I fell asleep, ink-stained hands gripping my chair. What woke me was the sounds of commotion near the edge of camp. Not violent, if the lack of clanging and screaming was to be trusted, but it was still _loud_. Several voices, some familiar and some not, and too far away to really get the gist of what they were saying. As the Tactician of the Shepherds, in service of Chrom, I felt obligated to investigate.

Brushing aside a stray lock of white hair and straightening my coat, I let the cold night wake me up the rest of the way. Half-formed plans surfaced in my thoughts, and I went through the daily motions to try and keep myself focused. First: How out of it was I? I'd had a dream, but the memory slipped away as my exhausted mind forced itself awake. My eyes ached and my head felt stuffed with cotton. But, if I was careful, I could get by for today.

Strangely, though, I started to hear a child's voice- not Ricken, and definitely not Donnel. Maybe I _did_ need more sleep.

"...so then I said, _rawr!_ Like this, and I stomped around and they ran away-" It grew louder as I approached the edge of camp, slipping through disgruntled soldiers and a few early risers. That same voice giggled, and I could hear the murmur of lower voices.

One of them was _definitely_ Chrom, I decided with a groan. Had he found new friends again? The sentries had strict orders to direct Chrom to me or Frederick, and we could distract him from going off to rescue some distant village. Of course, we would rescue it anyways, but without him charging ahead. Maybe I was exaggerating the issue, but Chrom is the heart and soul of the Shepherds. We couldn't afford to risk his life.

I rounded the corner and was hit with a whirlwind of sound and emotion. A child wearing glorified underclothes pranced around, purple cape and green-blonde hair flowing behind her. Next to her, a brick of a man with short red hair- everything about him _screamed_ mercenary, and his lined features spoke of decades of experience.

Chrom, our Prince and liege, seemed to be in earnest conversation with a tall man with blonde hair and a short, scruffy beard- his voice tickled at the back of my mind, like I'd heard it before. Maybe he'd known me before I lost my memory? It was a faint hope, and I discarded it quickly in favor of evaluating the situation properly.

Frederick's irritation preceded him as he tromped up beside me, arms crossed over his armored chest. "Robin," he nodded curtly, "Are we secured?"

I nodded back, one hand on the Thunder tome in my coat. "They seem friendly enough, but you're not interested in that. I saw Gaius move in behind them," I started, gesturing towards the flicker of green near the gate, "The sentries are aware and will fire at a moment's notice, and Marth is... Marth. She'll be here, no doubt." If they turned out to be hostile, the sentries had a good angle on the tallest one, and we could probably handle the rest.

"It is less than ideal," Frederick decided, one hand on his chin, "But acceptable. The child, though-"

The long-haired girl whipped around, bringing her pointed ears into clear view as she glowered at us. "Hey! I'm not a kid, you meanies. I'm a _dragon_! Rawr!" She made her hands into claws and squeaked at us, which was incredibly adorable. The giggle she made, even more so.

"Now, now," the blonde man admonished, resting a hand on the girl's shoulder, "Let's not roar at strangers, Nowi." A reasonable man- excellent. He would probably be the one to speak to. "Unless it's funny, of course. Just don't eat anyone."

Never mind that, then.

Chrom rounded on us with a warm smile. "Robin! Frederick! I was out on a walk, and these three were arguing with the guards. Andrew here was just telling me how the escaped the Plegian army."

Frederick huffed, crossing his arms and drumming his fingers. "And you just let escaped prisoners into camp, milord? I do not need to remind you how precarious our situation is."

"Oi!" the red-haired man rumbled, his accent thick and sharp, "Gregor is no _prisoner_. Gregor is mercenary, and very good one! ...Just looking for job right now."

"The big meanies caught me and put me in a cage," Nowi (or so I assumed) grumbled, glowering adorably, "But then I got out and scared them all away! I can show you, too!" She moved a hand to a bag at her side, but the tall man (Andrew) placed a hand on hers and shook his head.

"Nowi," he admonished, "We're trying to stay inside the camp, not get chased out. I don't know about you, but I'm hungry."

"Awww," Nowi sighed, puffing our her cheeks and pulling her hand away, "Fiiine. I'm bored."

Andrew quirked a smile, blue eyes gleaming. "We can fix that later. For now, though-" He coughed into his fist, drawing himself to his full height. "My name is Andrew. I'm a travelling merchant- or I travel with one, at least- and I was captured by the Grimleal for... some reason. This right here is Nowi, a Manakete, and behind me is Gregor. He's a mercenary, as he said," he gestured to himself, Nowi, and then Gregor in turn before giving Chrom a slight bow. "And you're Chrom, the Prince of Ylisse, so this must be the Shepherds. I always thought you guys were pretty cool."

"Maybe in need of Gregor's sword, eh? Gregor has good rates!" Gregor promised with a chuckle, "Last employer wanted to kill Nowi. Gregor disagreed."

Putting a hand to his face, Frederick pinched the bridge of his nose. "I am," he said pointedly, "Too tired to deal with this. I take it we are recruiting all three of them, milord?"

Chrom, who had been strangely silent, inspected the three newcomers again. "Of course! They're in need, and they want to help, I'm sure."

"I'll get the forms," Frederick sighed, "Robin, I leave this to you." And without another word, he was off towards the center of camp.

"Well, then," I said, feeling a bit short as Andrew, Gregor, and Chrom all moved closer to me, "Welcome to the Shepherds. I'm Robin, the tactician." I stuck out a hand, and Andrew took it with gusto.

His sharp blue eyes hid a mess of thoughts I couldn't begin to predict. He looked expectant, impressed, and... confused? Definitely confused. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Robin. I'll warn you- I'm not a great fighter or mage. I'm just an average joe. Nowi and Gregor will be great helps, though. Nowi, no, stop climbing up my back!" Andrew broke the handshake with a grunt, and a tuft of greenish hair appeared over his shoulder.

"But you're talll," Nowi drawled, voice muffled by the fabric of Andrew's outfit, "And I'm tired. My feet are sore and I need a nap."

Chrom chuckled. "She reminds me of my sister when she was younger. I think you two would get along really well!"

"I'm not a kid, I'm-"

"Thousand years old, yes, Gregor knows this," the mercenary grinned, "But even old people like Gregor need to play sometimes."

As Nowi and Gregor started to bicker about naptimes and playtime, with Andrew tiredly supporting Nowi, Chrom slipped past them and rested a hand on my shoulder. Warm blue eyes flickered up and down, taking in every detail. "You look tired, Robin. I can handle this- you should sleep."

I froze, caught like a rat in a trap. "I just haven't- um," I couldn't lie to Chrom. I _should_ lie to him, he'll feel less worried. But he'll know, and then he'll be upset.

"You should just tell him you've been skipping sleep," Andrew said absently, shuffling Nowi around so she could grip around his shoulders, "And let me tell you, it's not good at all. You'll forget more than you achieve. Nowi, that's my collarbone, not a handle."

I worked my jaw for a moment, looking between Chrom and Andrew. "It's for Emmeryn," I blurted, playing my last card, "We can't afford to lose."

The silence that followed was deafening. A heavy weight slammed onto my shoulders, and Chrom's eyes stopped twinkling. Andrew looked at me, his expression flat and the bags under his eyes suddenly more evident.

"But we won't lose," I said quietly, boxed in by well-meaning allies, "I won't let us lose."

"Emmeryn," Gregor mused, "Ah, Exalt, yes? Gregor knows of her. Maybe Gregor will work for cheap, help Shepherds save Exalt."

"I saw her once," Nowi said, resting her chin on Andrew's shoulder, "She seemed nice. I'll help too!"

Chrom released his grip for a moment, expression shifting rapidly. He grabbed me by both shoulders, lifting the weight from my back as he spun me around to face him. "We'll get her back, Robin," Chrom promised, eyes burning with blue flame, "We'll get her back and bring Gangrel to justice. But if you're tired, you're not going to be able to help. Go and sleep, Robin- I can handle this from here."

My heart warmed, muscles loosening as tension was siphoned from my body. I let out jaw-aching yawn, slipping out of Chrom's grip to stretch aching muscles. "You're right, Chrom," I laughed, smiling, "I'm sure that we can do this. Together."

I walked away with a spring in my step and hope in my heart. Soon, Plegia would be free of its Mad King, and Ylisse would have its Exalt back.

:|:|:|:|:|:|:|:|:|:

By the time I'd dragged myself out of bed, dressed, and had my morning tea, the encampment was already half-packed to move out. That didn't bother me much; packing was more Frederick's area. I just hoped that Cordelia had gotten up in time to scout ahead- given we were moving out within the hour, I figured she had.

I confirmed that over my second cup of a lovely peach tea, sifting through the stack of paperwork and reports left on my desk. Most came from Frederick, two from Chrom, two more from 'Chrom' (Frederick again), and the neat, soft handwriting of Cordelia indicating she'd done inventory without being asked. I made a note to thank her for that, because she still didn't realize I'd made her Quartermaster.

It made for a quite pleasant morning. The paperwork didn't seem nearly as bad, and I even had a few ideas for battle formations. Of course, Emmeryn was still at risk, so I still made good time with all of my work. By the time I realized I hadn't had breakfast, I was on my fourth cup of tea (Maidenhair, apparently; courtesy of Maribelle) and had a few different plans prepared for that evening's war tent.

Taking my time, I decided, was something I should do more often. Maybe not _too_ much, I corrected myself- when I saw the mess tent was empty, it was quite clear I had taken too long. At least I could take that opportunity to do more work, what with the lack of disturbances. There was always plenty to do, and armies generated a disturbing amount of paperwork.

The 'Breakfast' stew had been left on hot coals, ready to eat but not hot enough to burn itself. To my excitement, there was even a hum of preservation magic over it, probably from Miriel. Until it wore off in, maybe an hour or so, the stew would taste as fresh as when it was cooked. Helping myself to a hearty mix of vegetables and meats, I sat myself down and dug in.

At that point I realized I hadn't had _dinner_ the night before, and lunch had been a stick of jerky. I practically devoured my meal whole like a snake does to their prey, and was well on my way through my second bowl when someone swept into the tent.

"Oh! Robin," someone tall said, plonking themselves down next to me with their own bowl, "Didn't expect you to be here this late. Or early, depending on the context. Either way, looks like you decided to drink the stew rather than eat it." He chuckled awkwardly, mumbling something to himself. Without the scruffy beard, I barely recognized it as Andrew- he looked a bit more like a nobleman than a former prisoner.

I flushed, searching for something to wipe my mouth. "I was hungry," I defended, "Plus, stew is soup, and soup is a liquid, right? I can drink that." How had I forgotten to brink a napkin? I couldn't just lick my face or wipe with my hand- what kind of impression would that be? A bad one, that's what.

Andrew smirked at me, eyes betraying nothing of his thoughts. "Well, you can drink the broth, right?" He turned, picking a napkin out of his pocket. "Here, I grabbed two of these when I heard there was stew for breakfast. Well, four, but Nowi stole two and Gregor pocketed one from her."

I took it, thanking him and wiping my face. "It's not like me to forget stuff like that," I said, "I wouldn't have looked so messy if I'd-"

He shook his head and put up a hand. "No, no, it's fine, I get it. Two of my best friends are _huge_ soup fans- hopefully we'll run into them soon- and soup can get a bit messy. Should you really be doing paperwork over breakfast?"

Blinking and trying to wrap my head around the subject change, I looked down. I'd gotten nothing done, probably because I was busy eating. "No, not really. It'd be much better if it was sandwiches, those can be eaten with one hand and don't make nearly as much of a mess. Sandwiches in general are much better, if you ask me."

His expression flickered rapidly before ending on over-dramatic, abject horror. "Sandwiches?" he exclaimed, pausing for a moment to take a spoonful of stew, "You're not saying that sandwiches are better than stew, are you?"

What a strange man. What a strange, misguided man. "Of _course_ they are! You can carry a sandwich while you work, and they can have plenty of flavors that pair up for enhanced effect."

Andrew snorted, stifling laughter as he rolled his eyes. "Pair up. Heh- but how can a genius such as yourself be so horribly _wrong_? Pass the salt, would you?"

I handed him the salt, watching him sprinkle a bit over the stew. "Stews and soups are nice, but they're not ideal. You can't optimize a soup the same way you can a sandwich. You can chart out the relationships between meats, sauces, and vegetables to find out what combinations result in optimal flavors-"

"But it's just not the same kind of effect as a soup- or anywhere close to the objective best food type, stir fry," he shook his head, "Garlic is king, my friend, garlic is king."

Garlic was a big thing to forget about, but I was the tactician of the Shepherds for a reason. Plans within plans, backup plans for my backup plans. "Ah, but you can't use mayonnaise or mustard on either of those, can you?"

He made a _face_ at the idea, sticking out his tongue. "Eurgh. Mayo in soup, mayo in stir fry... just kill me now, Robin."

"Checkmate," I declared, nearly missing my mouth with a spoonful of stew. "You're outmatched and outwitted, and I have it on good authority that Chrom likes sandwiches too." I felt strangely achieved for having 'won' that short debate, and celebrated by drinking more maidenhair tea. It wasn't cold yet, which was nice.

Andrew grinned, his smile a little too wide for comfort. "I have it on just as good authority that the Voice of Naga prefers _Soup_ ," he stuck a finger out, jabbing me in the chest, "And I'll make a soup so delicious you'll have to agree with her."

That sounded and felt like it was supposed to be impactful, but it really ended up doing nothing. "I have no idea who the Voice of Naga is, and I have yet to have a soup better than one of Stahl's sandwiches." Such a feat was impossible. Probably. I took yet another sip of tea in the lull.

"Oh, she's Naga's kid. Met her in Valm," he said casually, inspecting his finger with a frown. "Wait, you know who Naga is, right?"

I spat out my tea, saving my paperwork but nearly splattering Andrew in the process. "You met the daughter of a _goddess_?" This man had joined the Shepherds with a Manakete and a battle-seasoned mercenary. He'd read me like a book that same night, and somehow he managed to do something even more absurd. "Can you hear yourself? That's ridiculous."

"So you _do_ know who Naga is, good," he nodded to himself, pulling out a napkin and wiping off the table, "I'd hate to have to explain that, I know absolutely nothing about the faith. Anyways, she thinks soup is the best type of food, and even if she's wrong, she's more right than you are."

"But-"

"Stir fry is obviously better, but the woman could probably eat a whole clove of garlic without really caring- she drinks _boiling tea_ , can you believe it?" He chattered onwards, apparently oblivious to my incredulous expression, "I haven't actually _asked_ her if she likes sandwiches, though, but I bet she agrees with me."

"Look-"

"Anyways, Naga isn't _really_ a goddess, either. She's just a really powerful dragon, I think. Again, you'd have to ask Tiki- that's the Voice, by the way- but I'm pretty sure that's how it is." His rambling concluded, and his eyes snapped to me. "You seem confused."

I jabbed _him_ in the chest before I really thought about what I was doing. "I am _very_ confused, Andrew. You're speaking in heresy, hearsay, and something else that starts with 'H'."

"Haberdashery?" he suggested around a mouthful of stew, "I think it means something about selling stuff, but my best friend is a merchant. Er, friend, probably."

"It works well enough," I shrugged, remembering I had my own stew to eat as well, "But you expect me to _believe_ that you know the daughter of a goddess? And that she's alright with what you're saying?"

"Nah."

I nearly spat out my stew, and in the process of stopping myself, nearly choked. Once my coughing fit was over, I did my best to glower at him. He didn't seem particularly phased. "You're a strange man, Andrew," I said, trying not to smile, "But you don't seem to be lying."

His hand twitched, going to his nose. "I try not to lie, thanks," he said quickly, looking away, "But, hey, we should probably get going with our day. I have to talk to Frederick about something, apparently, and Nowi is probably still trying to steal Gaius' candy. See you in a bit."

And like that, he was gone.

"Wait a sec-" I cursed, "Did he just _dodge_ the debate with that? Naga damn it!"

:|:|:|:|:|:|:|:|:|:


	15. First Impressions

[][Andrew][]

Silver light flickered through inky-dark clouds, glittering in the endless wet grasses around me. Shadows lurked at the fringes of my vision, dark and knotted things that writhed my heart.

A cold breeze drifted by, long grasses rippling with dew, a sparking mess of shadow and silver.

The light faded, obscured by distant clouds.

 _I know this dream_.

**Of course you do.**

The air was frigid, grasping at my breath as I wandered through the slick, oily shadows of the night. Long grass brushed at my waist, leaving trails of icy dew. The Duke, frozen in my grip, felt ahead of me- searching for _something_ I could no longer see. My boots sank deep into the wet soil, demanding more and more of my flagging stamina. I tried to call out, and my voice was swallowed in a momentary lance of light.

Thuds of metal on soil reached my ears, quiet but echoing in the empty field. A pulsing, ragged intake of breath- like an axe being ripped from a lung.

_It's never the same._

**But it never changes.**

With no other choice, I pushed onwards. I pushed away. With each step, my boots sank deeper into the invisible murk. The Duke grew colder, burning my hand and biting at my bones.

_Then you know how this ends._

**But you don't know how it begins.**

I turned to face the masked figure- for they would be there, I knew. Cast in silver and oozing red, it glowered at me through its six-eyed mask. It halted its march, blackened hands dangling listlessly at its sides.

**It is only a matter of time.**

The shape leaned forward with languid grace, taking a single step closer.

The darkness parted, lances of white-green light banishing the dream from above. My sword shivered, humming a familiar tune as it faded away. Out of the corner of my eye, in the back of my mind, something bright approached us in this empty world.

All that was left was the figure, shrouded in oozing blackness that pushed against the light. It lurched, moving like a puppet on frayed strings- managing to take another step before it too faded away. With a clatter, the gold mask fell, cracking and crumbling even as it sought to put itself back together.

"Your dreams bode ill, Outlander," a soft voice whispered, rich and resonant, unreachable and by my side. A delicate hand reached for the mask, banishing what remained with a gentle touch.

[][][][][][][][]

The dreams were back. Well, more like the dreamlike event had _become_ a dream, rather than appearing as some bizarre side effect of a demonic dragon trying to read my thoughts. It's complicated, and when I tried to explain it without getting too in-depth about Grima, Gregor just looked at me oddly and asked if I'd eaten some odd mushrooms recently.

I thought he was being weird, but then I repeated my thoughts back to myself. "Hey, someone tried to read my thoughts, and I had a weird dream about it. I had the dream again, except this time I talked to something inside the dream." I mean, yeah, I'd run into what amounted to Dragon Jesus (minus the crucifixion and the... okay, not at all like Jesus, but still the child of a deity) and also into whatever the hell Grima was, but most people were not adjusted to my lifestyle.

So, long story short, I'm not supposed to ask the chef weird questions anymore because I'm scaring him. There were no mushrooms in the stew, though, which was nice. So it meant that my dreams were either real, or just really weird. I'd been through a lot in the last... month or two, give or take, so it could just be my brain's way of coping with it all. Leaving my entire life behind in the blink of an eye, with a very low chance of being able to return, was _not a pleasant thing_. To be perfectly transparent, I suspected that the moment I stopped or truly had time to wind down, I'd just explode. Possibly in a dream. Hopefully just in a dream.

In the science of my former world, dreams were thought to be many things. As I understood it, they were how the mind processed experiences- digesting it, and turning it into memory and knowledge. In short, a purely empirical and grounded process. Neat and orderly, and something I could speculate on without worrying about some external meaning.

Here, though, in a world of magic? Dreams could be or mean _anything_. Maybe Grima was still chasing after my memories, or maybe he'd left a little present behind. Wouldn't put it past him. It's times like these that I wish I had payed more attention in that philosophy class I took.

"Andrew?"

I banished that endless line of thought with a shake of the head, bringing me back to the reality of the Shepherds' camp. The dull roar of soldiers assaulted my ears, and I had to shade my eyes to look at the person who had spoken to me. It was- no, I can't greet them by name, I haven't 'met' them yet. I'd already spooked Gaius, which was unexpected, but I'd resolved to not do it again.

"That's me," I confirmed, turning and standing up to greet them, boots sinking into the sandy soil, "Andrew. And who might you be?" I stuck out a hand, putting on a winning grin.

Sumia was one of the units I ended up using a lot, so it was easy to pick out what was different from her in-game portrait. Even if it felt a little odd to commit so much thought to someone's appearance, I couldn't quite help myself.

Like most people, she was shorter than me- and like most people in this world, she was practically glowing. Hair that photoshopped models would envy, eyes just a shade larger than normal, et cetera. Pinkish armor was set over her chest, fitted carefully to her body and with a well-kept sheen to every corner. Out of it flowed a long tunic of soft purple and lavender edges, held to the waist with a pink belt. And, just like in the character art, long boots and no apparent pants. I wasn't going to try and inspect that further, because that would have been rude.

Warm brown eyes met mine, and Sumia gave me a flickering smile as she gripped my hand in hers. "Oh, I was so worried that I'd gotten lost. I'm Sumia, a Pegasus Knight. I was talking to Chrom last night, and..." she flushed, releasing my hand and looking down at the ground. "Well, he said you were captured by the Grimleal. Nowi- that's her name, right?- she went to the medical tent, but you didn't, and I was worried."

I think she melted my heart with pure, cinnamon-roll goodness. I gave her a nod, reaching out my hand to pat her shoulder before thinking better of it. She didn't really know me, after all. "Sumia," I began, rolling the name around in my mouth, "That's quite kind of you- and thank you for checking up with me. I was treated fairly well, though. Nowi, on the other hand..." I trailed off as darker thoughts took hold, knotting at my insides.

Her expression shifted, one hand going to her side as she toyed with a lock of chocolate-brown hair. She wore her heart on her sleeve, and I could see a sliver of steel under her warmth. "Maribelle spoke to that mercenary you came with, Gregor, and-" The grip on her hair tightened, the metal of her gauntlets shifting audibly as she frowned. "She'll be fine."

I reached out with one hand again, flexing it for a moment. "That was then, though," I advised, resting a hand on her armored shoulder, "Now. I'm new to this place- new to the Shepherds. Maybe you could introduce me, if you've got time?"

Order was restored. Sumia brightened, releasing her hair from an iron grip and nodding. "As long as you're feeling up to it, I'd love to give you the tour!" Taking a cautious step back, Sumia absently rubbed a spot on her back. "It might be slow, though. I'm a bit of a klutz, and..."

Oh, right, her 'thing' was that she fell down a lot. Except when she didn't, but the Supports in Awakening being inconsistent was nothing new. Consistent or not, I had to wonder how often she actually tripped on nothing. Realizing I'd taken a bit too long to answer, I waved it off with a blush. "Um, no, you're fine. I'm fine with it, that is. What should I watch out for?"

Taking another step back, Sumia got the heel of her boot caught on a pebble and sent herself tumbling. I took a step and reached forward, trying to grab her by a flailing arm, but ended up getting smacked in the forearm. She landed on her rear, flushing an interesting shade of rosy-pink. "Oh, pegasus poop," she grumbled to herself, pouting slightly.

She really can trip anywhere. I felt kind of bad- maybe she wouldn't have tripped if I hadn't put a hand on her shoulder? Not much I could do other than help her up. "So," I started, putting one foot back to firm up my stance, "I should watch out for that, yeah?"

Taking the proffered hand, Sumia pulled herself up with a grunt. Taking a _very_ careful step back, she pivoted on one heel to inspect herself for dust and dirt. "I hope I didn't scratch anything," she worried, blush fading, "I've already run out of armor polish, and I'd hate to bother Cordelia about it again."

"I'm more of a padded leather and light armor kinda guy myself," I replied, "So if I'm _actually_ a Shepherd," I shrugged, trying to dismiss a swelling ache in my chest, "You can have mine, I guess? Anyways-"

"Anyways," Sumia agreed, brushing sandy soil off her long tunic-dress, "I'll be careful. I know you said you were alright, but would you mind if we ended the tour at the medical tent? Today's march was pretty long."

Aww, how nice. I was reasonably fit, but it'd give me an excuse to meet more Shepherds. "You're too kind," I said earnestly, smiling as she flushed, "So, what's first?"

Looking upwards with a slight wince- the Sun was _quite_ bright- she started to count on her fingers while murmuring something to herself. "Well, the caravan supplies aren't getting unpacked tonight, but the Quartermaster's tent should be set up... we'll go there first, and make our way towards the center. I don't know where Ricken is, but the rest of the Shepherds should be in camp. We can even stop by the mess tent, I need more rhubarbs anyways." Rhubarbs, huh? Was Sumia already running through that support chain with Chrom?

There was a pause.

"Lead the way," I gestured, "I don't know where anything is." And, if she's really _that_ clumsy, I'll catch her when she trips.

Flushing again, Sumia looked down while toying with a lock of hair. "Right! Sorry, I was thinking about something else. The Quartermaster's tent is right this way- oof!"

As predicted, she found a way to step on the heel of her boot, sending her toppling forwards. Taking a half-step forwards, I went for the waist, thought better of it, and hauled her back up by the biceps. "Wh-hoah there!" I called, releasing her from my grip, "We're not in a rush, and, uh," I felt at once amused, sympathetic, and awkward- Sumia was _definitely_ more muscular than I was. Taking a step back, I rubbed the back of my head. "No, that's basically it. No need to rush towards falling over. Er. No need to rush, falling over is bad. Yeah, that's the ticket."

Sumia giggled awkwardly, turning to glance at me over her shoulder. "Looks like we're both stumbling a little bit. Here, the Quartermaster's tent isn't too far..."

[][][][][][][][]

Have you ever stared at canvas for, let's say, four solid minutes?

If you said yes, my condolences. It's boring. Having a pretty woman inspect you with a length of string (to measure for light armor, apparently) _did_ make it better, but Sumia seemed way too happy about the whole thing.

"You know," I said, looking back over my shoulder, "When you said Quartermaster's tent, I assumed you meant we were going to chat with the Quartermaster and maybe pick up some supplies for your pie. What I didn't expect-"

"Hold _still_. Robin wants you in light armor, and I'm going to get you light armor," Cordelia muttered around the string in her mouth, "Can't ask the armorer to make adjustments without them."

I wondered if she realized that what she was doing could be considered intimate. Based on Sumia's expression- no. I raised an eyebrow, flicking my eyes at the redhead, and Sumia covered her mouth to giggle. Okay, so I shouldn't _tell_ Cordelia either. I cleared my throat awkwardly, waiting for her to step away.

Okay, nevermind, she's distracted. "So. I'm Andrew. And you are...?"

"Oh!" she blurted, hair tumbling across her face as she took a step back, "Cordelia, Pegasus Knight. We don't have a quartermaster right now-" Cordelia paused, pushing her bright red hair out of her equally red eyes, "Sumia, why are you laughing?- so Robin charged me with getting the numbers for armor fitting."

Now that I finally could get a good look at Cordelia, I could confirm she was just as glowingly pretty as every other Shepherd (even the guys, from what little I'd seen). Her face was sharper than expected- more of pointed oval, accentuated by high cheekbones, but it added a more realistic prettiness to her embarrassed expression.

The Pegasus Knight armor was much the same as Sumia's, replacing purples and pinks with maroons and reds. Her armor looked well kept, and the chestplate... absently, I wondered how canon the Outrealm DLC were. It wasn't my business, and she was starting to look confused, so I put that thought away for later. I cleared my throat- wait, hadn't I just done that? Trying another winning smile, I pulled my thoughts back together. "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Cordelia. So far, it's two for three on you Shepherds going above and beyond the call today-"

Cordelia raised an eyebrow, not quite meeting my eyes as she smiled. "Two for three?"

"Well, Gaius ran away, so it's two for two on people I've shaken hands with," I explained, watching as Cordelia's lips twitched, "He was little freaked out when I addressed him by name- Sumia here offered to give me a tour, which should prevent that from happening again."

Sumia coughed awkwardly, slipping past a few sets of armor. "I meant to introduce you, but then she ran up and- well, it looked like she was hugging you, so I assumed..."

It took about half a heartbeat for Cordelia's face to go as red as her hair. "Oh, was I-"

"-We've never spoken before, really," I interjected, wincing as my voice wavered, "Though I suppose you've already figured that out." I winced again as I processed my words. They didn't _feel_ rude, but Cordelia's big thing in her supports was her insecurity. Probably- it'd been a few years since I played.

Cordelia's flush faded slightly, and she looked down at her feet. "I should have asked before I started. My apologies, Andrew."

I took a step forward- then a half step back as the height difference became uncomfortable. She was maybe ten, twenty centimeters shorter than I was, and looming over her wouldn't help. Even if I was strangely tempted to pat her on the head.

"I don't really mind," I said, carefully picking my way through my words, "You were doing it so that I can get fitted with armor. Like most people, I prefer _not_ to die when hit, so..." I shrugged, looking at her sidelong while rubbing one of my shoulders. "Carry on?"

The redhead seized the opportunity with both hands (metaphorically, she didn't grope me), stepping in close and pulling out her measuring string... rope... thing. "Of course! Now, you're a bit on the tall side, so you might have to temporarily settle for more ill-fitting greaves- around the barrel seems fine, I think we have a few padded tunics that would fit you."

I'll spare you the three or so minutes Cordelia spent awkwardly measuring me, because it was awkward for everyone other than Sumia. She was too busy looking for pie tins to notice.

[][][][][][][][]

Next up on our amazing journey around camp, Sumia tripped over a slight incline. She muttered something surprisingly unprintable as she brushed sand off her knees, but not much else.

Our actual next stop was the mess tent. Sumia stopped me before we could enter, turning around to face me with a soft smile.

"I can't remember who's cooking today," Sumia mused, pushing aside a few loose strands of hair, "But there are a few ground rules for the Shepherds, and a lot of them surround the mess tent. Gaius volunteered to tell you, but..." she trailed off, glancing at me.

"Yeah, I know, I promise not to scare anyone," I grinned sheepishly, letting it rapidly morph into a frown. "Ground rules, you say? Hopefully I didn't break them earlier. I had breakfast soup with Robin, and," I coughed, clearing my throat, "Man, my throat's dry- well, I think I might've been a distraction."

Sumia hummed in response, toying with a lock of hair. "Unless you spilled food on the battle plans, you're in the clear." Her expression softened again, eyes unfocusing. Right, isn't she a bit of a space cadet?

"The ground rules?" I prodded, wondering where her thoughts had run off to, "I'd rather not commit any crimes on my first day."

Sumia started, posture shifting completely as she yanked herself back to reality. "Oh, I'm sorry about that! I was distracted by something. Ground rules, right?" She confirmed, nodding to herself, "They aren't really listed anywhere, but they're common sense, so you'll do fine. Don't be rude to people or break their things, only use titles or last names if someone asks, and..." she paused. "Oh, now _I'm_ forgetting! Well, those are the big ones. For the Mess tent, don't gamble or make bets before lunch, and don't throw food around."

I nodded, digesting the information. "You're right," I agreed, "That _is_ common sense, and does explain why nobody really addressed Chrom as 'Prince' when I saw him last night." Wait. Last names? They had- Of course they had last names. I filed it away before that trail of thought launched me firmly out of reality and Sumia had to snap _me_ out of it.

Sumia nodded, turning back around. "The tent is usually empty this time of day, except for the person on cooking duty- and maybe Stahl," she added offhandedly, tilting her head, "But I _think_ he's on duty today."

"Is he a big eater?" I asked, somewhat rhetorically. Because, you know, I played the game. "How does that work with rationing, anyways?"

"I..." Sumia shrugged, pushing the tent flap aside. "I don't know, actually. You should ask Frederick or Cordelia."

"Huh," I acknowledged, "Yeah, fair. You're not tied up in all that stuff- thanks for doing this, by the way."

The inside of the tent was cool but stale, like an old stone building in winter. Faded light filtered through the thick, tan canvas, illuminating a pair of rough wooden tables and a smattering of stools and chairs. Countless scratches and knife-marks littered the surface of it, no doubt the product of equally countless rowdy meals. The clattering of metal and the hiss of steam drew my eye to the back of the tent, where the soup had been this morning. Now that I was awake (and not pestering Robin), I saw that there was a back exit to the tent there- no doubt to the cooking area. Kitchen? Let's go with kitchen. If I concentrated, I could catch a whiff of dinner- something with a lot of spices, but not much fragrance itself. Which probably meant the meat was chicken, assuming there was meat at all.

"...and honestly, I didn't have much to do today. No need to thank me."

I jarred myself back to reality, rolling my eyes. Looks like I was just as much a space cadet as Sumia. "I'm going to thank you anyways," I replied, hoping I hadn't missed a question, "Because, well, I'm just a stranger- nobody important, really. Gregor fit right in, I think, but I've just spent the day wandering around."

"Most people don't willingly join Frederick's morning routine, Andrew," Sumia countered, "And you don't look like..." she trailed off awkwardly. "We all take time to adjust."

There was a flicker of motion near the back entrance, and it definitely wasn't green. Pretty tall, too- but not Frederick. It wasn't enough to distract me from Sumia's valuation, and I winced. "Ouch. You'd probably kick my ass in a fight, and you _look_ incredibly fit, so I don't disagree," I replied, smirking a little at Sumia's blush, "Frederick's training would probably just kill me outright."

"I'm not _that_ good, really," she waved me off, looking down at her feet, "I'm sure you'll be better than I am in no time at all." Oh god, my heart. It's melting.

I'm an actor, I can roll with this. Watching the flicker move closer, I clutched my heart dramatically, gasping and rolling my eyes. "Egads, you cad! You're too kind, and now my heart is melting."

Sumia nearly launched herself at me when I gasped, taking a few hasty steps back as my words hit her ears. Her expression was a sight to behold- morphing from shocked panic to a confused, smiling amusement. She covered her mouth, giggling through a weak attempt at a scowl. "Don't _do_ that, Andrew! You made me worry!"

I chuckled, rolling my neck and straightening my posture. "I'll let you know if I plan on dying," I grinned, feeling a little pang in my chest, "Promise. Anyways, how about we say hello to... er," I coughed. "Whoever that is behind you."

Still giggling, Sumia turned around. Coming face to face with Kellam, she yelped, staggering back and nearly taking me down in the process. Hooking my arms around her flailing limbs- damn, she has a mean backhand- I caught her mid-fall and launched her straight back up. "It's a big day for scares, it seems."

"Kellam!" Sumia squeaked, hand to her chest as she composed herself, "Warn me next time, please! My poor heart..."

I'd never seen Kellam outside of his armor, and he was exactly what I expected. A bit on the large side (big-boned, not overweight), a bit shorter than Frederick, and with the presence of a mouse. His bowl cut and placid, round face didn't do him any favors. "You'd be Kellam, then?" I mused, stepping alongside Sumia with my hand stuck out, "Nice to meet you- I'm Andrew."

"Kellam," Kellam agreed, in the most Kellam way Kellam could Kellam. "Most people have trouble noticing me, so we might not see each other very much." He took my hand, shaking it swiftly before stepping away.

Digesting that, I frowned. "I'm fairly certain I saw you coming, but it wasn't easy," I hedged, internally wondering if Kellam really was as straightforward as he seemed, "Anyways. You're cooking tonight, right? What's on offer?"

Kellam frowned. "Chicken. We have it so much that I wanted to do something different this time."

"Huh," I nodded, "What sort of spices?"

Sniffing the air, Sumia hummed to herself. "I smell a bit of onion and thyme, I think? I'm looking forward to dinner!"

Gracing us with what I suspected was a rare smile, Kellam nodded. "I'm glad, Sumia. It's nice to meet you as well, Andrew. I'd like to stay and chat-" No, that's a lie, "-but I have to keep an eye on the meal. See you at dinner?"

His footing was primed for turning, and he was angling away from us. Maybe he just doesn't like talking too much? That's fair. I caught Sumia's expression out of the corner of my eye, nodding in agreement. "Sure, see you then, I guess?"

"Yeah," he said eloquently, walking away.

In a few moments, he slipped out of sight. "Huh," I mused, stroking my chin, "That's Kellam."

Sumia smirked, eyes sparkling. "He's shy."

There was a comfortable silence as we stood there, thinking. Sumia was probably thinking about pies, and I was thinking about... quite a few things, actually. I had countless Shepherds to meet, and then I'd-

Fight on the front lines? That didn't sit well with me. But standing back and letting others get hurt seemed just as bad.

"There you are!"

We both jumped in place, Sumia nearly tumbling as her foot caught on the leg of a chair. "Pardon?" she sputtered, flushing.

Robin burst into the tent, hands on her knees and looking down at the ground. "There... there you are," she worked out between gasps, her low voice coming out rough, "Why do you have to move around so much?"

"Um," I said, "Sumia was taking me on a bit of a tour." Yes, yes, Robin's a girl. It was a bit odd to see, given Grima, but I'd decided it really wasn't worth speculating on. Tossing that thought aside again, I took a few steps forward. Sumia followed, once she stabilized herself.

Like everyone else, Robin was pretty. Long white hair, bright red eyes, and skin a model would kill for. She was also on the slim side, especially considering the ridiculous shape every one of the Shepherds seemed to be in. Maybe 140 pounds soaking wet, assuming she brought her coat.

Catching her breath, Robin straightened. "You know what?" she huffed, blowing a strand of hair out of her eyes, "Thank you, Sumia. I should have arranged for a tour. Anyways- Scouts returned, there's Risen at a nearby village. Andrew, I'm going to need you to come with us. You're the only person that can corral Nowi, and-"

My heart sank, eagerly fitting into the dull, aching knot in my chest. Looks like I'm going to be getting into the thick of it. Maybe this was the same location as the Nowi chapter in the game? If I was supposed to stick with Nowi, though, I'd probably be incredibly safe. "Sure," I said, raising a hand to stop Robin's outpouring of words, "But I don't have any armor yet, so maybe Gregor can sub in?"

To my despair, Robin shook her head with glee. "She's a miracle worker, I swear. You're ready to be suited up, and if you need a spare weapon, she has that as well."

"You'll do fine," Sumia assured me, nearly giving me a heart attack as she laid a hand on my shoulder, "Just stick with the group, listen to Robin's orders, and you'll do fine."

Once my pulse calmed, I glanced between the two women. The Duke felt heavy in its sheathe- tugging at my belt uncomfortably, reminding me of its presence- and the ache in my chest wouldn't go away.

 _You're a coward_ , a memory hissed, blending with my thoughts, _Just run away, let everything fix itself._

"I'll do it," I said, nodding to Robin, "Let's get going."

I knew I'd regret saying those words, but it was too late to change my mind. I held myself to them, even as my hands started to shake.

[][][][][][][][]

Sand rippled outwards, glowing in the afternoon light as we touched down. It barely registered over the roar of my own thoughts- and the pounding of my heart. Riding a pegasus wasn't as scary as I'd feared, but it reminded me I didn't like heights very much.

I could feel Nowi's arms slip from my waist, and I heard her giggling as she hopped off the side of the pegasus. Not Cordelia's or Sumia's- just one of the handful of nameless pegasus knights that accompanied the Shepherds.

"Thank you, madam," I murmured, awkwardly pulling myself out of the saddle, "Hopefully Nowi's chatter wasn't too much."

Her expression told me otherwise, and I decided to drop it. And shortly afterwards, I dropped _myself_ to the ground, nearly falling face-first into the sand. "Pleh," I grunted, dusting off my knees, "Sand isn't my favorite thing."

"Yeah! It's so coarse and rough," Nowi grumbled, crossing her arms and stomping in the sand, "It gets everywhere in my clothes, and it's so hard to get out."

Looking her up and down- looks like they hadn't quite gotten around to giving her a new outfit- I wondered how much alcohol it would take to remove that image from my mind. I didn't drink, so I decided an entire bottle of vodka _might_ do the trick.

"Alright, everyone!" Chrom shouted, voice carrying from the front of the formation, "You heard Robin. Stick together, keep the Risen out of the village, and _don't_ stay in combat for longer than it takes to hit them. They're slow, but they hit hard and don't have to hit you very much to kill you outright."

Eurgh. I'd heard the spiel, and as far as I could tell, all I need to do was follow Nowi around. Even so- looking at the village up ahead, sheltered as it was by the outcroppings of rock- I felt nervous. Protecting the village would leave us pinned against that rock face, against opponents that didn't tire out like we did.

"This is _boring_ ," Nowi declared, turning to face me in a whirl of green hair, "Andrew, let me ride on your shoulders. I wanna be tall."

I didn't really have a choice in the matter, so I crouched down and let her clamber on up. "How long 'till they arrive? I asked, raising my voice to carry to the front, "Nowi's getting antsy already."

Robin practically popped into existence as she slipped out of Chrom's shadow. "Um, they should be here in a few minutes. We'd best get into position."

"Minutes?" Nowi whined, kicking her feet against my chest, "But that's so _long_. Take me there, Andrew!"

She prodded at my scalp, pointing in the completely wrong direction. "No, Nowi," I sighed, "We're going where Robin tells us to go."

"But that's not as fun," Nowi patiently explained, apparently oblivious as Robin pointed towards our position, "So we're going where I say."

"Uh-huh," I nodded, letting her ramble, "Gotcha."

Only-

She'd stopped. Her hands were on my head, and I could feel them start to shake.

"Nowi?" I said quietly, grabbing Robin's hand as she started to slip past, "What is it?"

Robin glowered at me for a heartbeat, but that vanished when she saw my expression. I didn't know what my face was doing, but if it was anything like the sharp, clawing feeling in my heart...

The manakete remained silent, hands curling and gripping at my hair. I barely felt the pain. "Nowi?" I repeated, voice shaking, "Nowi, talk to me."

There was a long pause, deathly quiet and wound taut like a brittle spring. Chrom walked over, he resting a hand on Robin's shoulder. He exchanged a glance with her, eyes sparking blue as his expression hardened.

"Andrew," Nowi said, voice tremulous and barely above a whisper, "There's a bad man over there. He's watching us."

"C-can you-" My throat caught. I looked to Robin for help, and she looked to Chrom.

"Where is the bad man, Nowi?" Chrom asked, his voice as grounded as his posture, free of fear, "Show him to me."

"He's right..." Nowi swallowed. "He's- I can _feel_ him looking at me, he's hungry and it scares me."

I didn't like this. I didn't like this one bit, and I cursed myself for agreeing to come. Of course things were going to go wrong.

"He's-"

And that's when the screaming started.

[][][][][][][][]


	16. The Scottish Play

The scream trailed into sky, painfully human and impossibly loud all at once. It wrapped itself around my lungs, cold and unyielding as it constricted- demanding I cease, ordering me to wait for death. Pain erupted in pinpricks across my scalp, bringing with it a scorching heat that ignited my heart. The frigid fear slithered away, content to watch from the crannies of my already crowded mind.

But it didn't go away.

My thoughts returned, condensing out of the fog like morning dew. Nowi had pulled on my hair, her hands still wrapped in it as she clung to me. With a pang in my chest, I realized I could _feel_ her fear- the shivering, soundless sort of panic she had pulled me from the brink of. I brought up my own hand to touch hers, wincing as she took it in an iron grip.

Time, inevitably, resumed.

Chrom yanked himself around, Falchion sliding out of its sheathe as he bolted towards the front of our group. Robin spared me a glance before running off after her lord, features creased into a twitching frown. Nowi clung to my head and shoulders uncomfortably, one hand toying with my hair as the other continued to squeeze my right hand. Her skin felt almost feverish, but it didn't strike me as unnatural.

None of it mattered, really; I was expected to dive into the throng of soldiers and face whatever horror Grima had dreamed up. Maybe this was my fault, for toying with the timeline somehow. My throat constricted, sealing in a roiling, oily mess of feelings. Chrom's voice rose over the din- words of hope, words to firm our stance and hold the line. They slid past me, meaningless.

"Seems like things aren't going to plan," I croaked, voice smoothing with every word, "Does this count as contact with the enemy?" Ouch, that was a reach even by my standards. Never trying that joke again. Still, it calmed my spirit and fueled the heat in my chest, so it was enough.

"That was _awful_ ," Nowi drawled, each waver in her voice yanking at heartstrings, "Tell me another one."

"Don't think I have one," I frowned, meandering up to Robin as she directed the front line into formation, "Robin, where do you want us? Nowi's feeling, uh..."

I paused, squeezing Nowi's hand. "Better," Nowi said eventually, "He's still here, but he's not feeling so scary anymore. I wanna squish some Risen!"

Bit too loud, I decided with a wince, but relieving. Robin wiped a bit of sweat off her brow- maybe it was time to lose the gigantic coat?- and brought a hand to her hip. Absently chewing her lip, she glanced at Chrom. "We'll be swinging around through the main roads- north and south, I think- but we'll need to clear every alley along the way. Of course, we need to minimize casualties and save the villagers. See if you can support the pegasus knights, and _don't_ set anything on fire. Dragons breathe fire, right?"

Chrom nodded, his features creased in thought without even a hint of worry. His cape flapped in a light wind, because of course it did. "That's what I've read. Keep an eye out for archers, though. The Risen don't seem to have many of them, but I'd hate to lose even a single knight to that."

"Right, the archers," Robin nodded, brow furrowing as she frowned, "Yes, I prepared for them. The knights are on evasive maneuvers, and if you _do_ run into archers, I'll see if I can coordinate mages to deal with it. Or maybe our own archers- how many did I bring..."

"That's a big thing to forget," I said, twisting my wince into a wry smirk. Dramatic irony, damn you and your all-encompassing dark sense of humor. I did register that Chrom had given me tactical advice, which was... well, if he didn't know about tactics he would be dead, kidnapped, or both before he found Robin. Never mind, that makes a lot of sense. Filing the relevant questions away for a more opportune moment, I nodded. "Manaketes can breathe fire, yeah. They can do normal fire, but there's this bluish-white stuff that they do as well..."

Waving my free hand just as Robin attempted to do so, I squeezed Nowi's. "You heard what Robin and Chrom said, right? I'll do my best to keep an eye out for Risen archers, and we're going to help the knights rescue some villagers."

"Hmm," the manakete grunted, toying with my hand, "Okay. But only if we get dinner right afterwards. I'm hungry."

Robin nodded, turning back to the front line with Chrom. She cleared her throat, preparing to address the soldiers, and I took that as our cue to step away. "Of course," I assured Nowi, making my way over to the squad of pegasus knights, "Now if you could just stop squeezing my neck with your legs, that'd be great."

" _Fiiine_ ," she whined, the somewhat awkward pressure on my neck easing, "But I won't like it."

I snorted. Things were looking up- there was a plan and everything. The cold, serpentine feeling in my thoughts remained, though; waiting to strike. "If we're going to do this, you're going to have to be a dragon, you know," I reminded her, letting my hand slip from her grasp. "And I'd rather you not do that on my head, because I rather like being alive."

Nowi made an irritable hissing noise, and the weight from my shoulders vanished. She vaulted off me, hands outstretched and hair streaming in the late-noon light; another moment I wished I was maybe an artist or poet. I am neither, though, so I just thought it was pretty.

The world _twisted_ , motes of pinkish-white light swirling around Nowi for an impossible moment. With a flash, it folded like a flower around her, swirling and shedding petals like a tree in early autumn. Just as quickly, the flower ballooned outwards and bloomed, depositing a dragon mere inches from my face. Green scales sparkled yellow, shimmering and fluid like Nowi's hair. Stiflingly hot air puffed out of flared nostrils, and the dragon's mouth curled into a horrifying smile.

"Well?" Nowi's voice drawled, amethyst eyes shining with childish mischief, "Get on, I wanna squish some bad guys."

One of the pegasus knights cursed, yanking their hand out of a saddle buckle. The thespian in me prodded, informing me that we were under the spotlight, and I forced a grin. "Let's get this show on the road, then. No rolls or unreasonably steep dives, though-"

"Awwwww," Nowi whined, the bass rumble coming out more like a growl, "But those are _fun_. You're going to be no fun, aren't you?"

"Let's be reasonable, Nowi," I sighed, feeling much better as I stepped alongside the barrel of her chest, "Could you come down a little so I can get on?"

She grumbled, sound hitting the notes I usually associated with nightclub basslines. It twanged in my chest uncomfortably, but it wasn't too bad. "Hmph. We're gonna play when we get back, right?" As she spoke, she bent her legs, allowing me to clamber on- if we did this a lot, I'd no doubt get great core muscle strength. Or sore limbs. Possibly both.

"Of course, of course," I reassured her, patting her on the... probably the shoulder. There was a name for it, but I think that only applied to horses, and Nowi isn't a horse. Banishing that wandering thought into the ever-growing pile of weird questions, I ran a hand along her scales. "I might be a little tired when we get back. The sooner we're done, the sooner- agh!"

Pegasi galloped into the air, the knights' formation quickly aligning to a perfect arrowhead. Nowi took that as her cue, launching skyward with a single mighty flap of greenish wings. I frantically grabbed for the spine on her back, gripping it tightly. Heh, now I was riding _her_. The weight ratio's a bit off, and sitting on her shoulders would have my face pushed against her neck, but still.

Wind rushed past us, marked by sparks of bluish-white flame, exhilarating and terrifying all at once. I decided to ignore Nowi's giggle, even though it was a heart-skipping growl coming out of a dragon's throat.

It took only a few wingbeats for us to catch up to the knights just as they pulled above the town. Looking off the side to watch them made my stomach do somersaults, but it was a familiar feeling. I wasn't afraid of heights- rock climbing helps get that out of you- but I was reasonably afraid of falling and dying. My heart steadied, and I shifted in place on Nowi's back. Scales aren't comfortable, and dragons aren't really a normal riding animal.

The motion of my feet sent a shiver up Nowi's spine, coming out as a huff of sparks and smoke. Tilting and twisting her head, she fixed me with an amethyst eye while the other faced forward. My neck and eyes ached sympathetically, but it was done with such practised ease that I could only assume she knew what she was doing. Dragonfire puffed out her nostrils, one corner of her scaly mouth twitching. "Isn't this _fun_?" her dragon form hummed, voice echoing over it, "We're like birds! Big, scary birds." Fire breathing birds.

"Heh, yeah. Careful about diving, though, I prefer my head attached to my neck." Nowi giggled ominously as she faced forward again, banking to keep up with the knights as they turned. Looking down at the town, my eyes strained to pick up any details. I could see Risen wandering the streets, but... what had made that scream? Where was the being that scared Nowi?

The bird comparison became rather uncomfortable. Birds are hunted for sport, and archers... well, archers are what inevitably kill most of the Pegasus Knights. My chest ached at the thought- maybe there was something I could do to save a few lives? Christ, why hadn't I said anything?

Nowi's hum changed, timbre deepening and wavering. The chill in my mind returned, but I put a brave face on. No choice but to- my ride can't chicken out, after all. "Are you alright, Nowi? What's going on?"

"Cover your ears, Andrew," she said, soft voice carrying over the roaring wind. How the hell was I going to cover my ears? I needed one hand at least to hold on, and I needed two to cover my ears. That's one more hand than I have! Stalling slightly in the air, Nowi took a deep breath in, and I decided it was a good idea to _cover my ears_.

" **Scatter!** " Nowi- no, the _dragon_ \- bellowed, voice thrumming through my bones. Her familiar, impish tones were nowhere to be found in that deafening roar, but I had to discard yet another line of thought as she started accelerating towards the ground.

A heavy, air-shattering _whump_ of sound blasted over Nowi's wing, close enough that I felt the wind tug at me. "What the hell was that?" I called, alternating hands to try and get the sweat off my palms, "Nowi, what the _hell_ was that?"

"It's him," Nowi replied, banking heavily to one side as another... whatever it was... boomed past us. This time, I managed to catch a glimpse: was that a _javelin_? Javelins should not be fired like ballistic missiles.

As a third one flew by (definitely a javelin), I had the brilliant idea of wiping off both hands at once. That nearly got me thrown off, but by some bizarre stroke of luck, Nowi chose that moment to land.

So instead, I rolled off her side as she flared her wings, turning the whole thing into what I thought was a rather stylish dismount.

"Silly duck," Nowi admonished, snorting and shaking her head, "That's not how you get off a dragon."

Never mind her, I told myself. Clearing my throat, I unsheathed my sword. "I'd like to see you try," I fired back, "Maybe even give a course on it?"

Raising an... eye ridge, I think, Nowi brought her tail around me. "He's here somewhere. The javelins all came from different places, but I could tell they were him."

Great, there goes my mood. Or maybe I was always in this mood, and I just ignored it because I was only in the normal amount of danger? Regardless, I took a moment to actually observe my surroundings, sandy and empty as they were.

We were in what I assumed to be the village square, late noon light casting stark shadows across old cobbles and packed earth. A well sat in the rough center, well-worn but equally well-kept. Splintered wood was scattered across the ground, recent remnants of merchant stalls.

My heart sank. "Nowi," I said quietly, "It might be a bit obvious, but-"

"The Risen were already here," Nowi finished, the clacking of her claws echoing dully, "I don't like this game of hide and seek, Andrew."

Shivering slightly, I tightened my grip on The Duke. Working my jaw, I set my back against Nowi's side. "Hopefully the knights-"

" _Well, well,_ " a sandy voice drawled, scraping against my ears and shattering my thoughts, " _A dragon and a rogue- not the ones I was looking for, but you'll do_."

There was a pounding in my ears, soft at first but rapidly swelling in sound and speed. My hands were sweaty, but I kept my grip on The Duke as firm as possible. Fat lot that would do me, I mused, these aren't bandits anymore. No, this was- I cleared my throat, wincing as it fought against me. The knotted mess of oily fear reached upwards, constricting around my heart, and it wasn't getting easier to compete with.

So I went with what I knew. Bravado. Deep breaths, in and out, shoulders squared. Nowi's clawed feet thumped as she started to pace, and I paced with her- spinning and keeping as much vision as possible. Hot wind toyed with my hair, the staleness stifling in the light armor Cordelia had suited me up with. No worse than the HEMA gear I'd dealt with for a few years, but that didn't make it pleasant. More deep breaths, bring that heart rate down so I can _hear_ things.

Reaching inwards, parting the barbed mess of pain and panic that cut at my heart, I found my bravado. Cracked as it was, worn at the edges and not quite hiding the eyes, it would do. I smiled, dropping my voice an octave as I spoke from the gut: "You're a Deadlord, aren't you?" there's not much else it could be. Now, to roll the dice, chip the mask a little more, "Is Grima that scared? I won't tell."

A dry chuckle answered me, echoing from every alley and grasping at my fear. " _I wouldn't know. I just do what I'm told, and he seemed pretty mad._ "

Keep him talking for a moment. Robin and Chrom couldn't be far, and- this Deadlord was looking for a 'rogue and a dragon'. Anna and Tiki. Stall, stall, stall. Dropping my voice further, I whispered, "Nowi, how long can you keep this up?" How long until we're easy pickings?

The tremor in my voice told me I didn't have long either- my pulse was thrumming, fingers twitching, and legs were slowly losing their strength.

"An hour, if I don't fly too much," Nowi whispered back, the bass tremor of her voice entirely absent, "Andrew, I'm scared. He's everywhere, I can _feel_ him."

"I'm scared too," I admitted, wincing as the mask cracked. It wasn't real, but- I'm just a small-time actor. It's hard to fake something you don't feel, and it gets harder the longer you hold it. "But he wants us to act on it, Nowi. He'd be here already if he wasn't scared of us," I lied, because who the hell knows what went on in a Deadlord's head.

So I raised my voice again, because we couldn't go too long without talking. "Really, now? Isn't he already crazy?" Wordplay. Heh.

"He's definitely on that side," Nowi whispered again, making me jump. Her nose tilted towards one of the alleys, and I sighed. "We should keep moving, right?"

I nodded, making sure Nowi had an eye on me as I did it.

" _Don't toy with words. Never was great at that, don't plan on learning now that I'm dead. Places to be, people to kill; you know how it is._ _He's mad because you brought Tiki to Ylisse, genius,_ " the Deadlord... snorted? It wasn't a pleasant sound, a bit too wet for my liking.

"Oh, that," I replied, "I hope Grima didn't mind, I thought he'd like a playmate-" Wait, Grima thinks I'm some sort of mastermind, right? I grinned to myself, forcing the fear back down with what is best described as manic hope. "Pity I couldn't get her the first time around, for whatever reason."

A long pause. In the distance, I could hear a clattering of metal, a growling of Risen, and I relaxed my grip. Not much longer.

" _You done stalling yet?"_ The sandy voice sliced through my thoughts, battering at my bravado, searching for the cracks. " _I'm done over here. How about you?_ "

"Oh dear," I said quietly, clearing my tensed throat one last time, "I don't suppose I could ask you to leave?"

Nowi hummed, clacking along the ground. "I wanna squish him."

The Deadlord chuckled again, voice echoing out of every alley. " _Say, Nowi- that's your name, right? How are ma and pa? You written lately?_ "

Nowi stopped in her tracks, wings unfurling as bluish fire dripped from her jaw. Her voice dropped several octaves- a woman's, not a child's- and the dragon snarled. "You wouldn't dare," she hissed, "You couldn't have."

Black fog snaked out from the shadows, red eyes glinting from the dark. " _Oh, I don't know. They must miss you, little lizard. Maybe I'll give them a visit, let them know..._ "

And Nowi was gone, spitting and snarling as she crashed her way through the alley.

" _Heh_ ," the sandy voice mused, inches behind my ear, " _Easy every time_."

With as much of my will as I could hold together, I held the Duke in my hand- commanding my legs to _move_. Hot, dry breath curled along my neck, drawing my heart to a frantic pace as I bolted blindly. My knees ached, trembling and heavy, but all paled before the leaden footfalls of that _thing_ following me.

" _Now, now,_ " it admonished, close enough that I could hear the rattle of rotted lungs, " _It's rude to run away_. _Turn around and_ _ **face**_ _me!_ "

The world dimmed as mind-fracturing _pain_ shattered outwards from my right leg. For a moment, I barely felt anything; a blur of meaningless sight and sound that came crashing down as I did. My hands met the sparse cobbles, scraping against them more than hard enough to break skin. I could feel my right angle throbbing with numbing pain, a swelling pressure that demanded my full attention. Each breath was ragged and forced, sucked down by starved lungs- that, at least, I could deal with.

So I focused on it, counting my breaths, opening my senses to the world little by little. Waiting for the Deadlord to come- they'd hit me plenty hard enough to break bone, and I had no doubt they'd outrun me. As always, when push came to shove, all I could do was try and talk my way out of it.

Metal boots thudded to the soil in front of me, brought in sharp relief by my frantic mind. I could see each flake of rust, each fleck of dried mud, and shudder at the wetter crimson that lined the tips. Their stance shifted, placing pressure on the tip of one boot as a blackened hand dipped into vision. A hand, warm like a nightmare, pressed itself up against my chin and dragged my gaze upwards.

" _Got you_ ," the Deadlord whispered, red eyes flickering behind its bronze mask.

I couldn't hold his gaze- that was for the defiant. I didn't want to die, not like this, never like this. The bravery I'd propped up against Grima died soundlessly in my throat.

" _What_ ," it- no, he, from the sound of it- drawled, almost audibly smirking, " _No final words? No message for your loved ones?_ "

"Wh-" I started hoarsely, still looking anywhere but forward, "What loved ones? Even if you c-could find my family, you'd just- just kill them. I can't find them, either."

" _I was hoping you'd say something brave, or maybe say nothing at all. You want comfort, go find it when you're dead,_ " the Deadlord rumbled, hand sliding down my neck. " _Now, get up. We're going._ "

Even as the Deadlord yanked me to my feet- he was taller than I was, the first I'd met here- I found the sheer bafflement of my situation overwhelming the increasing pain in my right leg.

"Going where? Back to Grima?" I forced out, teeth reflexively clenching as the Deadlord started to tug me along by the collar of my armor. "You're pretty g-good, _ach_ this hurts, but I'm pretty sure you're surrounded."

" _Meh._ "

Very helpful, Deadlord. "You're surprisingly conversational, you know," I added, wincing again as I put just a bit too much weight on my foot, "I recall Deadlords being the dumb kind of violent. Which one are you? Mus?"

The Deadlord paused for a second, looking both directions as we hit a crossroads. I took that moment to scan myself- was anybody within shouting distance? No, but there was a pile of smouldering ash, flecked with bluish embers. Looks like Nowi was still searching for the Bad Man, which was probably the point.

" _You guessed that last time, have some imagination,_ " the Deadlord sighed, a sound that made me wonder if he actually had lungs at all, " _The name's Drych. Remember it, make sure to scream it once or twice. Much better than being called 'Deadlord' or 'Risen'._ "

"Uh-huh," I nodded, because I had no idea who Drych was. He knew that, and I wondered if my future self ever figured out the deal with him. "Were those javelins yours?"

" _Yeah. Nicked 'em from a weapons merchant after I stabbed them,_ " he yanked me to the side, dragging me down a random alley. " _Amazing how fast time passes when you're in pain, right? I wouldn't know, I can't feel pain._ "

Amazing, that's one word for it. There's also a lot of other words, some in other languages, and all of them unprintable. I even learned one or two from Sumia, of all people. "So what are you doing with me? Did you specifically want to bring me into a dark alley so you could murder me dramatically?" And now I was running my mouth. It was a good distraction from what I could tell was a broken leg. Not that good, given I was thinking about it.

" _Of course I'm going to kill you. Just not yet,_ " he started, tossing me bodily at the wall.

My back ached, scraping along the mud-clay wall as I slid to the ground. Maybe if I wasn't _already_ numb from the pain, I'd be worried about a broken back. Everything felt like it worked, which was a good sign.

" _Worst comes to worst, you'll run away like you always did in the future. That's not much of a threat to me, is it?_ " He snorted, turning away. Blackened hands flickered with purplish light, and the Deadlord gripped at a sheathed sword. Quite a large sword, from the looks of it.

He pulled, revealing a sword best described as _rotting_. Pitted, blackened metal, missing a tip and warped to a jagged edge from uncountable years of combat. " _But don't worry, you're still useful. The Voice is still here somewhere, and she likes you, right? She'll know you're here, and be drawn like a moth to a flame._ "

And then he'd kill her. I didn't know how strong Tiki really was, but I knew she was in her weakened state still. I couldn't let her die, I had to- "Run away," I whispered softly, the final piece clicking into place. I watched his form melt into the shadows, barely caring.

No, he can't be right, can he? I wasn't a great fighter, but I could talk until... until I found an opening to run away. I shook my head. "Maybe you're right," I forced out, uncaring of the waver in my voice, "But not forever. I can come back with friends and deal with the problem, because I can't fight it on my own." Yeah. That sounds good.

" _And what happens when they get tired of it?_ " Drych laughed, voice echoing from every shadow, lancing at my heart. " _The Voice is kind, true, but the redhead? You're trusting an Anna with your life? You must be nuts._ "

I wasn't expecting to get judged by a Deadlord. I snorted, banishing my doubt to the furthest reaches of my mind. "This is ridiculous. Why would I take your thoughts seriously when you're trying to kill me? You even said that Tiki and Anna were here. They'll save me." If not them, then Chrom, Robin, and/or Nowi. Preferably all of them.

" _Now you're just running your mouth. Shut up, I hear footsteps._ "

The pressure of his presence vanished, and I was left to quiet and pain.

A moment later, footsteps. Familiar- but whose? My heart, wrapped in the fear and cold, burst into merry flame. Red hair, eyes like rubies, and a face I wouldn't forget. "Anna," I whispered, hands pressed against the wall as I gritted my teeth- she shouldn't look this way. Drych would either kill her or make her part of the trap as well. So, when she nodded subtly, I instead slumped down, as if she hadn't reacted at all.

Our eyes met, just for a heartbeat. I mouthed _trap_ , she rolled her eyes. _Trap_ , I continued, _get_ _Shepherds_. She picked that up as well, her own eyes flicking to the shadows. _I'll get them_ , she mouthed, still not quite facing me, and my heart swelled. Without breaking pace, Anna continued on her way.

All in less than a second.

She was going to get the Shepherds, hopefully Tiki as well. I knew it- she was doing the kind of running away that I did. Getting help, because Anna would no doubt be murdered gruesomely if she tried herself. "You want Tiki," I murmured, "That wasn't Tiki. Seems you were right, though, she'd rather not care."

" _You're taking this better than expected_ ," Drych whispered back, now from the opposite wall of the alley, " _I was hoping for some sobbing._ "

"I'd never give you the pleasure of it," I replied smoothly, "Plus, even if she went to get help, you'd have to chase her, and then I'd do the whole," I gestured vaguely with one hand. "Running away thing."

" _It's times like these I wish Grima had more Deadlords._ "

"I'd rather he not."

" _You know what, I respect that._ "

So we sat there in relative silence, waiting- Drych waiting to spring his trap, and me, waiting to, er. Spring my trap around his trap when it springs. Yeah, that.

[][][][][][][][]

I couldn't say how much time had passed, waiting for my rescue. Less than an hour- there couldn't possibly be _that_ many Risen to deal with. Also, a limited number of things for Nowi to set on fire before _she_ ended up finding me.

Anna must just be having trouble finding them, or something. With the mess going on out there, and given I didn't really tell her who the Shepherds _were_ , it was going to take a bit.

However much time it was, Drych had lost his patience. He emerged bodily from the shadows, my stomach churning as the blackness clung like oil. The Deadlord fixed me with his burning red eyes, one hand on his sheathed sword. " _They're not here yet. I can feel the Voice, but she can't find me. Time for you to make some noise._ "

"Would you like a shout, or-" My mood, tempered with pain as it was, took a turn for the worse. Drych stomped towards me, slowly unsheathing his sword, and I forced myself to take a deep breath. "I-I can scream, I'm an actor," I chattered, voice a bit higher than I preferred, "No need for drastic measures, really."

" _No need for them_ ," Drych mused, twirling his sword so it scraped against the ground, " _No need for a lot of things._ "

I could hear myself become frantic even as my mind emptied. "W-we can talk about this! You could do your screech again, whatever that was-"

" _The greatest power of the Voice was to ease pain, the old books said. Let's see how fast she moves when she feels it._ " He brought his sword up, twirling it again, and drove it straight into my right leg.

For the second time that day, the world collapsed around me, forced inwards by pain and boxed there by darkness. Dully, I heard myself scream, the pain in my leg compounding as cold metal slid out of the wound. I felt my throat ache, raw and dry, and allowed it to constrict.

" _Good one,_ " Drych complimented, his voice uncomfortably clear as the world opened up again, " _That should do it._ " He turned, flicking crimson off his blade as he faced the exit of the alley.

In the long pause that followed, my voice returned to me. "It better," I mumbled, "Don't think I have another one of those in me. Next time, just put up an ad in the paper, will you?"

" _What part of you do I stab to kill your jokes?_ "

"Point taken."

Shortly afterwards, I heard a thump against the alley wall. Through the muddled fog of pain, I recalled a particularly important fact about Chrom.

A massive chunk of clay wall crumbled, and the Prince of Ylisse came bursting out after it. Blue flame blazed across the Falchion, a whorl of light as he landed blow after blow on Drych's hastily raised sword. Chrom spun, leaping backwards through the rubble, catching Drych in the trail of flames, only to lance forward tip-first.

Drych slid to the side, barely avoiding the Falchion as it buried itself halfway in the opposite wall. The dust, still not settled, followed Chrom's motion, kicking up a plume that glittered in golden-red sunlight. The Deadlord tilted his head, chuckling, and brought his own blade down on Chrom as the Prince tried to remove Falchion from the wall. " _Idiot._ "

-Only to meet the flat of an axe, bouncing off with a _clang_. The axe tilted, and from the dust _Tiki_ emerged. She was a blur of impossible motion: twirling a two-handed axe larger than her head like a baton, slamming it downward, upward, sideways; even striking at the Deadlord with the shaft on occasion.

My heart beat again, and time resumed. Drych began his counterattack, each motion a blackened blur as he flickered in and out of shadow. His rotted blade came from every angle, probing the Voice and the Prince as they deflected each blow. " _You can't do this forever. I can._ "

"You'll be dead long before we tire, Risen!" Chrom bellowed, just a bit too loud for my liking. His eyes blazed with an inner light, and the brand on his shoulder cast a blue glow. He turned, holding Falchion out-

 _Catching_ Drych's sword with the hole in the guard, twisting and yanking the Deadlord from the shadows. The pitted edge sliced at his hands, but he barely seemed to notice. Tiki swung in, her own eyes glittering as she grinned with too-sharp teeth, planting her axe firmly and deeply in Drych's side.

Drych didn't seem to care. Yanking his own sword back, he raised one blackened hand, letting purple fire swirl around it. " _Never much liked Aether, you know. Blue isn't my color._ "

And from a spark came a blaze of black-purple fire, rippling outwards and forcing the pair of fighters back. Forcing them further away from me. The battle resumed, a symphony of violent sound and perfectly improvised movement. I barely understood what I was seeing- feints that were parries, a deflection preparing for a pivot, and countless other moves I couldn't even begin to guess at the intent of.

But Drych was right. He was forcing them back, pushing them away from me. He was also right about something else- that I needed help.

I didn't plan to just sit back, though. Gritting my teeth, dragging myself up against the wall, I pulled the Duke from its sheathe. Tiki saw me, through a gap in the storm of metal and flame, and she winked with one reptilian eye.

One step, one foot before the other- As little weight on the right leg as possible. Ignore how much bleeding this will cause, because the alternative is death. Or torture.

The Duke found its way to Drych's back, sliding cleanly through him and out the other side. He howled, the sound raw and agonizing against my ears. I barely had time to pull the Duke out of him before the purple flame swirled once again. The blaze intensified, forcing me backwards and downwards as my legs gave out, eyes stinging with heat.

And just like that, it was over. The purple flame vanished, sucked inwards, taking the chaotic noise of battle with it. Silence followed, leaving only the frantic sound of my heartbeat. Breathe in, breathe out. Chrom and Tiki were there, now, standing over me; I was being pulled up, arms around their shoulders. "Thank you, thank you," I said, "God, I almost died. We all almost died. It's my fault."

"There is little you could have done against such a foe," Tiki murmured back, her voice low and sweet, "And yet you acted. Thank yourself first."

"You're welcome," Chrom replied bluntly, "I heard someone was in need, and I came. This woman was headed in the same direction."

I frowned at his words, something oily forming in my gut. "Pardon? Weren't you looking for me?"

Tiki hummed in response as we started to move, albeit slowly. I was taller than both of them, so I had to hunch my back as I limped. There are worse fates than being rescued by two legendary figures, to be honest. "I sensed your presence, but it was hard to find. You have magic in you, but it is quite faint."

The oily feeling oozed upwards. "You... you didn't see Anna anywhere?" Maybe Chrom had seen him? That'd make sense, Anna knew who Chrom was, at least in theory.

Chrom, to my relief, nodded. "Of course! She ran right into our forward line. She seemed pleasant enough."

I felt a pressure on my hand- something warm. Tiki was grasping it, green eyes fixed forwards. "And what did she say, out of curiosity?" I asked, hesitantly- it was an obvious question, but I needed to be certain.

"Oh, she asked if we'd seen her cart," Chrom said, shattering my heart across the soil, "I think she's headed for Ferox? Hopefully she can make it to the next village."

I squeezed Tiki's hand, but the warmth felt meaningless.

Darkness took me, wrapping me in the embrace I had fought for so long. I welcomed it.

[][][][][][][][]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I make no apologies.


	17. In Shepherd's Clothing

()()Tiki()()

Against all odds, I found beauty in the sunset. Watching as the Sun burned red at the horizon, setting the sky alight like a fading flame, I let my lips curl into a smile. That feeling only swelled as I felt the familial and familiar heat of Naga's blessed beside me, calling back to younger days.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" The prince- Chrom, I recalled- carried a warmth in his tone that I could not help but agree with. He grunted, shifting more of Andrew's weight onto his shoulder.

"I was thinking much the same," I admitted, letting out a huff of air as I moved some of the weight back. "In my many years, I have never grown tired of the Sun's rising and setting. Even now, I find some excitement in it."

I saw Chrom smile out of the corner of my eye. "It reminds me that there's always hope. There are good, brave people out there willing to save the day- like you."

Oh, this man is too much. I laughed softly, keeping it low as to not wake Andrew. We rounded a bend, picking our way past another bluish pile of ash (this other Manakete, no doubt), and my humor trailed off. "Were I not already wise to your sort, I would think that flirtatious. You are too kind, Prince Chrom."

"I'm just being honest! That thing we fought, that Risen, was nearly stronger than the both of us. Even if you are a Manakete- or you look pretty like one, at the least- that was a big risk. This man," Chrom started, crashing through implication like Thoron through paper walls, "Who joined us just yesterday and rode a _dragon_ into battle, was just as brave. You're one of the friends he mentioned, right?"

Naga picked quite a heritage to bless. Raising an eyebrow as Andrew slumped forward a little, hand shifting in my grip, I wondered if one of my fangs was showing. "You have made several points, Prince Chrom," I started, taking great satisfaction in his blush, "So pardon me if I take a moment to respond. Perhaps, if you are going to flirt with me, it could wait until my hands are free. To enjoy dinner." I resisted the temptation to wink; the poor man was simply too earnest.

Chrom shook his head as I paused to draw breath. "Um, no, miss, I just thought you were pretty and- No! I mean to say that you're someone I-"

I couldn't help but laugh, watching out of the corner of my eye to see where he turned his gaze. So my fangs are out today, it seems. "No, no. I was just, ah, pulling your leg, I think is the term?"

He let out a sigh of relief, bringing a hand up to rub the back of his head. There was an awkward shuffle as we moved to keep Andrew balanced between us, but I let it pass without comment. "Oh, good. I don't want to give anyone the wrong impression, you know. If Sumia heard rumors that I was dating someone, her heart would be broken."

That threw my thoughts for a loop. A blue-haired lord? Courting someone openly before the war was over? Perhaps there was something I was missing. "Ah, so this Sumia is the one you are courting? I understand," his blush confirmed it, and I thought it a good time to spare him. Clearing my throat, I tilted my head. "This man, Andrew, is a good friend of mine. I am glad to see he was welcomed here, and I owe you my thanks for that. I think he thrives as an entertainer, and with recent events, it will be good with him."

"You speak as if you will be departing soon," Chrom cut in, "And this 'Anna' broke his heart, I can tell. Wouldn't you leaving just make it worse?"

The main body of Chrom's soldiers were around the corner, if the chattering and clanging was anything to go by. Shaking my head free of the sound, I squeezed Andrew's hand. "I intend to stay as long as you will have me. I am not human, though- I do not feel heartache like your kind does."

Chrom nodded, contemplating my words as we rounded that final corner. A slight man rushed over, carrying a stave in one hand and a Vulnerary in the other. Chrom exchanged quiet words with him as a second healer stepped in as well, and Andrew was passed into their care.

Though I did not feel heartache, I did indeed feel _muscle_ aches. Quite a few of them at present. My limbs twanged with pain, no doubt furious from the mana I'd pushed through them to keep up with the Deadlord and Chrom. Carrying a (quite tall) grown man had only made it worse. With laced fingers and arms outstretched behind me, I let out a pleased groan as sore muscles unknotted themselves. I heard a _whang_ as a soldier whacked their colleague on the helmet.

"Then we're glad to have you, miss. I-" Chrom turned to me with a hand outstretched, expression contorting into an apologetic smile. "I'm afraid I didn't catch your name."

And I was beyond pleased that historical texts still used that portrait of me from childhood as a baseline. Now, for the next test. "You may call me Tiki," I started, masking my hesitation with a curt bow, "Though I cannot offer my services as a dragon, I can assist you as a human." I took his hand as I came up, matching his firm grip with my own.

It was then that I heard someone sputtering and coughing behind me. Chrom released my hand, patting me on the shoulder as he sidled by me. I turned as he moved, and laid my eyes on someone I was not expecting.

"Are you alright, Robin? What happened?" Chrom fretted, concern plain on his features as he inspected the slight, white-haired girl and her flask. "Was it tainted? Did you put too many herbs in it again?"

Grima, or perhaps their host, but... not. This one looked thinner, with a physique I would expect more from a girl at the edge of her youth than a young man. Long, pale hair confirmed my suspicion, and it took me a few heartbeats to connect the information. I cleared my throat, calling upon the pracised grace of the Voice of Naga.

"I believe she was startled, Prince Chrom," I said softly, advancing towards the pair with a hand half-raised, "And you would be Robin, correct?"

Robin worked her jaw, taking her flask back from Chrom and sipping it carefully. She coughed a few more times, waving Chrom off. "You'd be correct. You're... Tiki, right? That's the name I heard. You just startled me, because Andrew..."

Oh, of course Andrew had said something. Chrom was focused entirely on helping the poor girl through her sporadic coughing, so I could risk a subtle warning. I locked gazes with Robin, feeling a flicker of sympathy as she nearly cowered under it, and shook my head.

After another cough, Robin sighed. "He mentioned he was friends with a Tiki, but you'd think he'd mention you were a Manakete." One of my ears twitched involuntarily as a rather _interesting_ sound drifted from behind me.

I had to wonder how I had come up as a conversation topic. Possibly, I thought with amusement, as backing for an argument. "Ah," I said, foregoing a smile while the fangs were out, "I'm glad he sees me as a friend. Now, if you could introduce me to the Manakete you have under your command, that would be excellent."

Robin frowned, with Chrom visibly confused by my statement. Bare moments later, I sidestepped my friendly assailant, sticking one arm out to catch a caped child as they flew past me. A young Manakete, then, if her wings and sheen weren't obvious enough. The hair color was unfamiliar, and the outfit was... something.

"Aww," she whined, draped like an oversized ragdoll from my arm, "I wanted to surprise you! I haven't met a new Dragon in sooo long! I'm Nowi." Her words came out in an avalanche, one that took me a moment to digest.

She swung her arms, dangling limp like a ragdoll. I could not help but smile. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Nowi. You were impressive up there- do you fly a lot?" This one had spent a long time in the air, dancing through with an agility that I knew escaped me.

"Uh huh!" she said, brightening as she slid off my arm. Glancing at Chrom with a frown on my lips, I flicked my hand at the girl's glorified underclothes. Chrom visibly halted as he took in the girl's outfit before mouthing _not my area_. He in turn looked to Robin, who went through the entire spectrum of human emotion in less than a second. It was quite amusing to watch her scowl at a man much taller than her.

"...and then I went _rawr_ and set a bunch of 'em on fire! Never found the bad man though. Maybe he ran away! Hehe." Nowi giggled, her purple eyes dulling as they searched her surroundings. My heart winced, but I did not allow such feelings to surface.

"Andrew is fine," I assured, patting her on the head as she smiled, "He's a bit beat up, and he might be sad when he wakes up, but he's alive."

"We killed him, Tiki and I," Chrom said, kneeling down to pat Nowi on the shoulder, "You saved lives up there, did you know that? Only one knight was hit, and she'll be fine with some healing."

The instant she heard my name, Nowi's eyes flickered up, dancing around mine as a disappointing amount of awe bled into them. It was good to know I was _remembered_ , but this one's mouth would be harder to keep shut than Robin's. I smiled all the same, putting a finger to my lips and winking. To my relief, Nowi blinked and nodded slightly, content to be in on the secret.

Robin looked up from a journal, absently wiping ink-stained fingertips on her black coat. "We'll have to keep an eye out for that in the future," she muttered, clearing her throat, "Very few casualties today, surprisingly. Based on reports from the villagers we found hiding out in the cellars, the thrower was _probably_ the same thing you two fought. Luckily, it spent more time chasing Tiki around than killing villagers."

My legs ached just at the memory. Clasping my hands, neatly avoiding Nowi's prying grasp, I sighed. "His kind are called Deadlords. They are a rite of Dark Magic older than I am, meant to serve as sleepless, undying generals for a dark army. This one took too much pleasure in the hunt, and it was his downfall," I paused for a moment, waiting for that to sink in.

"There's a catch here, isn't there," Robin challenged, her red eyes seeking purchase in my thoughts. They would find none, but it was a worthy attempt.

"Deadlords don't burst into flame when they die," Chrom said abruptly, stroking his chin as he watched his troops scuttle about, "They crumble to ash. Next time he shows up, we'll need to be prepared."

I paused, words dying on my lips. Nowi groaned and scampered away, no doubt to raise havoc. How had Chrom come by that information, precisely? "That would be correct," I agreed, suitably impressed, "But that is something I only know from personal experience. How did you come by such information, might I ask?"

"Seconded- not the personal experience, but I've only seen Deadlords mentioned in passing," Robin added, taking a quill out of her robe, dipping it in an inkwell (also from her robe, quite impressively). "Is this from that 'secret Exalt knowledge' that identified the marks on my hand?"

I raised an eyebrow, stepping forward and taking a closer look at her hand. Not that I truly needed to look- to my magical senses, that symbol was impossible to _miss_ , once I knew what to focus on. "Anyone with passing knowledge of the Fell Dragon can identify that symbol," I said, bemused as she shuffled back a step. "And I would hope the Prince of Ylisse knows a thing or two about the Fell Dragon."

Robin had the good sense to look disappointed, deflating like one of those odd tropical fish. Chrom shrugged, taking a step forward to create space between myself and Robin. "I read sometimes, you know- Robin, come on, I'm not Vaike," he paused to glare good-naturedly at Robin, patting her on the shoulder, "There's a few old journals from the founding of Ylisse, and my tutor made me study them."

"I can't believe it," Robin scoffed, crossing her arms and taking yet another step back, "Chrom can read."

They both chuckled, sharing a joke I wasn't quite in on. A pleasant scene, one that made me feel quite... tired. I couldn't stifle my yawn, and instead morphed it into a well-deserved stretch. My shoulders popped, muscled realigning and untangling just a bit further. "Ah-ahh," I hummed, clamping my jaw closed and opening my eyes, "Hm. Pardon me, were my fangs still showing?"

Robin, slightly paler than before, nodded. "Didn't know Manaketes could do that."

I winked. "One picks up many tricks over the centuries, Robin," I rolled my neck, hoping to ease yet more knots. "But I digress. It appears your soldiers are waiting for you- don't let me keep you."

Chrom turned around, shoulders squared and every bit the Prince- and in his shadow, the slight tactician that no doubt ran the war behind the scenes. It seemed familiar, yet different, and I hadn't the time to think about it before Nowi pounced on me again.

()()()()()()

When we arrived, the Sun had long ago slipped beneath the horizon, leaving Stars and the Moon to cast silvery shadows in the dunes. Our landing could not have come a moment sooner: the rhythmic cadence of pegasus wings had nearly put me to sleep, and there is nothing worse than being awakened early from a well-deserved nap.

Slumber dragged on my thoughts, barely held back by the cacophony of soldiers. In that chaos, I exchanged a few distracted words with Robin about sleeping arrangements- a woman who I could only assume was Sumia had burst through the crowd, nearly strangling the Prince with a hug.

"Oh, I'm so glad you're alright, Chrom!" the woman gushed, hands trailing from Chrom's back down to his hands, "Now, if Robin doesn't need you, maybe we can, um." She paused, brown hair tumbling over a deep purple tunic as she inspected her boots.

Chrom's eyes crinkled in a deep-seated but baffled grin as his hands squeezed hers. "Can what, Sumia? There's not much time left today." He glanced to the side, exchanging silent words with Robin. "Looks like I'm not needed here, though. Before we go, I'd like you to meet our newest addition."

That would be me. Tilting my head, catching Robin's eye with my own, I nodded. "We will speak later, no doubt. I won't wander far, and I cannot exactly sleep until a tent is set up," I concluded our conversation, stepping forward as Chrom gestured to me.

I inclined my head to the woman out of respect. Courting someone as dense as Chrom was admirable, and her kindly disposition radiated from her features. "I am Tiki, a Manakete like Nowi. I look forward to fighting by your side."

Sumia paused, looking me up and down as she thought about something. Brightening, she smiled, extending a hand in greeting. "Oh, wow. I always wanted to see dragons when I was a little girl, and now there's _two_! Right here in our little camp! You can call me Sumia." Taking a step forward, she caught her foot on a knot of tough soil, sending her flailing and falling towards me.

To my bemusement, Chrom burst into obviously practised action, wrapping a hand around her waist and pulling her back up. "Careful, now. Are you sure you don't want new boots?"

"Pegasus poop," she pouted, flushing in Chrom's momentary grip, "I'm fine, Chrom. Tiki, it's lovely to meet you! I'm so sorry about that. I'm a bit of a klutz," Suma continued, focusing on me as she toyed with a loop of her hair.

Even as we continued to speak, moving through pleasantries at an even pace, I diverted part of my attention to tracking Andrew. He was less than twenty paces forward, attended calmly by a tired-looking healer. The wound did not feel dark to my senses, but I felt it in my best interests to keep an eye on him.

When Sumia inevitably excused herself, taking Chrom with her, I turned once again to Robin. She was looking between her journal and a cluster of soldiers, scribbling down notes and barking orders with an increasingly hoarse voice. A yawn rumbled up from my throat, and I indulged in another stretch as I waited for Robin to conclude her business.

Lacing my fingers together and pressing outwards with locked arms, I took time to drink in my surroundings. Above all, there was the clatter of metal and clamor of the armed masses, echoing from every corner of the encampment. Neat, radial rows of canvas tents surrounded a central pavilion, and through the gaps in those tents I could see that the pavilion was also quite populated. Closing my eyes and taking a careful sniff, sifting through a mountain of body odors and bloody scents, I extracted a meatier fragrance- soup, perhaps? Something to look forward to.

With my senses dulled by muscle aches and impending slumber, it took a moment to realize that I had been standing there, stock still, for several minutes. And, I thought with a fanged smirk, Robin remained oblivious.

So focused on her work, my light tap on her shoulder caused a yelp as she jumped into the air. I frowned sympathetically as she turned, tilting my head. "Apologies, Robin. I did not expect you to be so... focused."

"It's fine, happens all the time," Robin assured me hastily, waving her hand in my direction. At the same time, she ran her _other_ hand through her hair. I was able to catch the subsequent falling journal before it hit the ground, quirking my lips into a grin. I handed it back to the blushing tactician, who accepted it without meeting my eyes.

"Thank you, thank you. I really need to work on that one..." she trailed off, eyes unfocused for a split second. When her thoughts returned, she looked back at me. "Oh. Did you need something?"

"I will be following Andrew to his destination, which I presume to be a medical tent. If I am not there, I would go to the cantine- so where would that be, might I ask?" As I spoke, I spared glances to Andrew through the crowd. The healers, frustrated but not frantic, seemed to be rebinding his wounded leg.

Furrowing her brow, Robin closed her eyes and started to make vague gestures in the air. "Right, so... no, left, right, maybe northwards?" It was fascinating to watch- her fingers traced circles in the air, connected with regularly spaced lines from the center outwards. I was suitably impressed; directions have and never will be a strong suit of mine.

Her eyes snapped open, hair tousling as she jerked her eyes to meet mine. Just as quickly, Robin looked away again. Running a hand through her hair, she said, "If you're leaving the medical tent, turn left and follow the path. The cantine- we call it the mess tent, though- will be on your left. You can eat meat, right?"

Blinking, I reached deep into my memory. A metaphorical bell had rung in my mind, and I hummed in response. I offered Robin a polite smile, carefully concealing my teeth. "How thoughtful of you, Robin," I said, lowering my voice to avoid eavesdropping, "I did not know the priesthood still practised such diets, but I am not surprised. No, I eat meat."

"Um," Robin began eloquently, fiddling with her journal and avoiding my gaze, "Would you... no, never mind. I'll see you at dinner, then." And with that, she took a half-step back and scurried away.

Humans are odd. With Andrew already being lifted on to a stretcher, I chose to accept the strangeness and move on.

()()()()()()

Trailing the stretcher was not particularly difficult, though it was certainly a stranger experience than expected. Slipping through the bright but flickering torchlight, I came quite close to colliding with a shirtless and overly muscular man.

"Whoah there!" He said cheerfully, crossing his arms in a rather impressive twitch of muscle, "Haven't seen ya around here before, pretty lady. The name's Vaike. But you can call me Teach!"

I frowned, watching as he curled one arm and stuck the other out, posing. He grinned, eyes flicking up and down my frame without settling. The healers bearing Andrew's stretcher slipped into a nearby tent, sparking a burst of feminine voices. With that in mind, I inclined my head. "Hello, Vaike. My name is Tiki. I take it you are one of the Shepherds?"

"Yup. Not just any Shepherd, though! The Vaike is the strongest and toughest of 'em all!" Straightening, he brought his fists together and flexed yet again. Faintly, I registered that he was trying to impress me.

I covered my mouth, chuckling. "The strongest of them all, you say. Perhaps we could spar sometime?"

He visibly contemplated my words. "Naw. Would never hurt a pretty lady like you, miss Tiki," He assured me, bringing one hand to his hip, "The Vaike can toss around this axe like a feather."

There was, I observed, no axe. His movement brought my eyes backwards, and I grinned. "If I might ask, do you write the word _Teach_ on your axe?"

"That way everyone knows what-" he paused, hand meeting nothing as he grasped for a loop on his belt. "Wait. How d' ya know that, if I don't have it? Is Teach that popular?"

"Only thing _you're_ popular for, knucklehead, is _forgetting your damn axe!_ " Demonstrating impressive strength herself, a woman with short red hair and equally red armor bonked Vaike on the head with the flat of an axe. I slipped to the side, hoping both to see the newcomer clearly and edge my way past them. Her arms were bare of armor, revealing muscles that no doubt could match Vaike blow for blow.

Vaike whirled around, rubbing his head. "Hey! What was that for?"

"That's for bein' late for our evening spar, Vaike. And this-" The woman reversed her grip, jabbing Vaike in the stomach with the base of the shaft. "Is for _forgetting your axe_!"

I chuckled again. Vaike looked more sheepish than hurt, shifting one hand to his stomach protectively. "Sorry, Sully. I'm tryin', I swear!"

Sully nodded, satisfied. "Good." Her eyes shifted, and she turned to face me with a broad grin. "Oh. Hey, you're the new gal, right? Hope Vaike wasn't givin' you any trouble."

Vaike huffed, crossing his arms. "The Vaike can't resist a pretty lady, Sully! You know this!"

"You tread on strange ground, Vaike, but your words are appreciated," I said carefully, looking back to Sully. She had her work cut out for her. Spreading my hands, I shook my head. "No, no. His enthusiasm was... palpable, let us say, but there is no harm done," Clasping my hands back together, I inclined my head at her. "You may call me Tiki. It is a pleasure to meet you, Sully."

Rubbing one of her arms as she handed Vaike's axe back to its proper owner, she winked. "You're one of those Manaketes, right?" Sully stuck out a hand. "Nice to meet ya, Tiki. Maybe we can spar sometime."

"Hey, wait a minute-" Vaike protested, only to be cut off as Sully rolled her eyes at him.

"I look forward to it, Sully," I accepted her handshake, grinning toothily as she squeezed my hand. I squeezed back with equal force, drawing on what little energy I had left for the day. It was quite worth it; she looked suitably impressed as she released her grip, winking at me.

"I think I'll like you, Tiki," Sully concluded, cracking her knuckles. "Now, you get goin' wherever you're goin'. Vaike and I have a date with the dirt."

I raised an eyebrow at the phrasing, chuckling as the pair barreled away. These Shepherds were, in a word, earnest. Younger than expected- no older than twenty, I guessed- but these were the people that sought to change the world. It hearkened to my youth, recalling memories of dear old Mar-Mar...

Shaking my head free of nostalgia, I turned my focus back to my destination- the medical tent.

()()()()()()

I had not even parted the flaps before a woman jabbed a finger at my collarbone- painless, but startling.

"I have already had _quite_ a day, miss, and _you_ ," she paused, swiftly looking me over, "Are not injured. I won't give you numbing herbs, and I _won't_ get you out of-" the woman paused, tossing a mussed swirl of blonde over her shoulder. Steely pink eyes locked with mine as the shorter woman sighed, shoulders slumping. "You're new. Lord Chrom recruited you, I suppose? Ahem. Welcome to the Shepherds. Now, off you go- this man needs _competent_ attention. Honestly, must I do everything? Lissa, get me the Physic stave." She swirled around, forcing me to step back as her hair whipped around.

One had to wonder how she managed to keep her pink riding outfit clean. Heedless of her words, I slipped back into the tent, taking in the consequences of the battle.

A crisp incense burned in the center of the tent, its scent fighting a losing battle against the metallic odor of blood. Healers flitted about, occasionally dropping splintered staves into a growing pile of inert wood. Most of the soldiers here had scarring wounds, and with proper care, would recover. I recognized one of them; it was the pegasus knight the Deadlord had knocked out of the sky. The javelin had punched through flesh and metal like a needle through cloth- had it hit her chest, rather than her arm, she would be dead.

As it was, she would never see full use of that arm again.

But that was not what I was here for. I turned my gaze to Andrew's cot, watching as the two healers slipped him onto it. The pink-clad woman looked on, one hand on her hip as she tapped her foot impatiently. Their hands had barely left the stretcher when she cleared her throat audibly, crossing her harms.

"You are dismissed for the evening," the pink-clad woman instructed, waving a hand at the harried-looking healers, "I don't work with tired healers. Now, Lissa- Lissa, dear! Where is my Physic stave?"

Stepping aside to let the two healers pass, I turned to follow her woman, Lissa, bore traces of Naga's blessing- perhaps Chrom's sister or cousin. Twin blonde tails, one on each side, emerged from holes in a lace-edged cap. Her outfit was quite similar to the other woman, albeit with loose sleeves and a brown corset over yellow rather than pink clothing. Strangely, the outfit contained a skirt split down the sides- a skirt that was much too large for her, as if it was meant to be draped on a frame.

Lissa huffed, looking up from the opened chests of supplies. "I'm looking, Maribelle, I'm looking! He looks fine, though. Can't we use a Heal and throw in some Vulnerary instead? We only need Physic for closing internal wounds."

Maribelle- a name I felt was most appropriate- shook her head as she unwrapped the bandages on Andrew's leg. "The substitution _would_ be acceptable, Lissa, if this was just a stab wound. But this wound was splinted, so there's a break somewhere, and if you had actually looked at the shape of the calf-"

"Ughhhhh," Lissa groaned, rolling her eyes as she moved to a new chest. "Tendon damage. Fine, fine. I think I saw one over... here!" She brightened, pulling a plain Physic stave from the chest. The green orb at the top hummed as Lissa ran a hand over it, and she nodded. "Yup. This one hasn't even been used!"

"Good, good. If you could be a dear, Lissa, make sure I ask Cordelia about restocking on those. I _know_ she has them," Maribelle offered a thin smile as Lissa scurred across the tent. That smile faded as she turned to face me, one eyebrow arching as she drummed her fingers on her arm. "Oh, it's you again. Did I not just tell you to leave?"

I admired this one's audacity. In Valm, much to my disappointment, people had been killed for less. Gesturing to Andrew, I called upon my habits as the Voice of Naga to offer a serene smile. "You did indeed dismiss me, Miss Maribelle. But this man- if you will indulge me so- is a good friend. I wished to inquire after his health, but it seems I have already overheard the answer."

Maribelle accepted the Physic stave from Lissa with quiet thanks, giving Lissa a stern glare as she turned to approach me. "Since you have what you came for, you can leave now. I won't let you distract me from more _important_ things."

Lissa, heedless of Maribelle's expression, waltzed up and grabbed my hand with both of hers. "Hey, I'm Lissa. Nice to meet you! I've never seen an adult Manakete before. Is it true you can turn into different types of dragon?"

Huffing, Maribelle turned around, pulling up her sleeves. "I don't know why I try, honestly. Naga save me from these dunces."

I tried and failed to restrain an amused snort.

Lissa released my hand, dropping her own hands to her hips and tilting her head. Blue eyes sparkling, she smiled. "Don't mind Maribelle. She's really nice once you get to know her! So, what's your name?"

I dipped my head to meet her gaze, taking a half-step back to make it less uncomfortable an angle. "You would be Princess Lissa, then? It is a pleasure to meet you. I am Tiki, and I am indeed a Manakete," I started, "And I would be happy to answer your questions- if Maribelle can spare you, of course."

Lissa pouted, pushing out her lips in an exaggerated frown. "Hey, I can do what I want. I'm not even really supposed to be here right now."

"And you can leave before I drag you out, Lissa. Your enthusiasm was lovely, dear, but I know you've been up since the crack of dawn. Go, and take miss Tiki with you," Maribelle waved her hand, not looking up from Andrew's leg. She brought the Physic stave close to it, allowing the glow to permeate his wound.

"Alllright then!" Lissa continued cheerily, grabbing my hand again, "Come on, I bet dinner's already started. I _gotta_ introduce you to everyone else!"

My heart warmed- no. It had already been warmed. Being among humans as an equal was an experience I dearly missed, one I had become attuned to again through Anna, Andrew, and Captain Boris' crew. But to be surrounded by so many friendly people- a band of warriors and mages fighting for a good cause- it made me wonder why I settled down at all.

I smiled at Lissa, allowing myself to be dragged from the tent. "Now, miss Lissa, I happen to be a bit of an expert on the topic of dragon forms. There's even a Wyvernstone, you know..."

[][Andrew][]

Cracking my eyes open, I let out a long, pained sigh. I barely felt like _moving_ , let alone being awake, but I refused to let myself be dragged down forever. Talking to Tiki, though... that felt like too much for me at that moment.

Talking to a stranger? Or as close as I can get, given I know all these people in a way I couldn't possibly expect them to be happy about? Yeah, I could do that. The blackened knot in my chest loosened as the pain in my leg slipped away, and before long, I was able to speak.

Staring at the canvas ceiling of the tent, I took a long, deep breath. "Th-thank you," I forced out, wincing at the hoarseness of my own voice, "I owe you one, Maribelle."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her shake her head. "I'm afraid I don't know what you are referring to."

"You knew I was awake, Maribelle," I said quietly, aching with every wavering word, "I expected you to call me out or something. So... thank you, for not doing that."

"Please," she huffed, setting down her stave and bringing out a Vulnerary, "It's only the right thing to do, mister...?"

"Andrew," I answered, my voice coming more easily, "Call me Andrew. And just because it's the right thing, miss," my throat constricted, heart beating a pained rhythm from its thorny cage in my chest. "Just because it's the right thing, doesn't mean people will do it."

And the hurt poured out in shuddering sobs.

[][][][][][][][]


	18. The Breakfast of our Discontent

[][Andrew][]

Waking up was, in as few words as possible, _weird_.

Every day in this world, I'd woken up with some sort of drive. Some _goal_ for the day. Keep heading to Archanea. Help Boris on the boat. Try to not get killed by Grima. You know, normal things. I chuckled, wincing at the tightness in my chest as it unwound slightly. Today, though, I woke up with _nothing_.

There were still things I wanted to do. Robin needed to know about Emmeryn's fall. The future children needed to be found- like Laurent, who I _knew_ was in Plegia. I'd even told Grima that the kid had arrived, just to spite the Fell Dragon and buy me a few seconds. How selfish- how cowardly- was that? I caught my spiralling thoughts with a murmured curse. Nothing good would come of beating myself up.

I looked up at the canvas of the tent, hands squeezing the thick, whitish cloth of the bed. Eyes burning deep into the rather dull canvas, I took a long, deep breath. And another, and another; I lost count of how many it took for the ache to dull to an echo.

To get out of this funk, I needed to _do_ something, which required a good reason to get out of bed. That seemed challenging enough on its own, but excuses were something I was good at. I'd experienced this lethargy before, albeit dealing with anxiety rather than being betrayed by someone I cared about. I could barely believe she'd just run away. I didn't hate her for it; I barely had the energy to feel upset about it.

Wait, no, I was doing it again. Deep breaths, Andrew.

"I'll... uh, beat something else up, then," I decided, forcing a smile onto my face, "That's supposed to be cathartic, right?" And in response, I felt _something_ stir inside of me, a spiral of emotion so muddled I didn't even try to understand it. I allowed it to tumble through me, drawing energy from it, and my false smile faded to a genuine smirk.

"Oh, no you _don't_!" snapped Maribelle's voice, and an umbrella unexpectedly smacked me in the face. "If you wander about and ruin my work, I will be _most upset_ about healing you again."

Not unexpected if you know anything about Maribelle, I mused. Then again, so is getting struck by lighting if you're holding a metal rod. Wincing, I propped myself up on my forearms and got a good look at my medic, and at the moment, my favorite Shepherd. Unfortunately, I couldn't hold myself up _and_ rub my face, so I picked the lesser of two evils.

After falling back onto the bed in an embarrassed huff, I propped myself up again carefully. Maribelle favoured me with a twitch of her lips, one perfectly manicured hand resting on the top of a wooden chair. She slid into it with unsurprising grace, crossing her legs and clasping her hands as she turned to look at me.

Maribelle, I realized, was just as ridiculously pretty as everyone else around here. Clear skin, large (pink!) eyes, crisp facial features, and hair that I was frankly envious of. Having seen how much work went into making a good hairdo for a _wig_ , I had a good idea of the effort Maribelle must put into those tight curls. Like with everyone, Maribelle looked less _perfect_ than their game art would indicate- but, now that I thought about it, that made them more human. Heh. Frankly, I thought that someone managing to have a 'perfect' version of Maribelle's hairdo would be impossible.

What _did_ she call that, anyways? Coiffed? Curled? Hair drills?

"Are you quite done, sir?"

I'd been staring. Feeling my cheeks heat up, I looked away for a moment. "Sorry, sorry," I muttered, returning my eyes to her sharp gaze, "I'm a bit out of it. Just, well," I cleared my throat, tilting onto my good side so I could bring my hand up. Stress knotted in my chest, and before it could have its way, I continued, "It's not every day a friend leaves you to die."

For some reason I had expected that to make me feel better. It didn't, and I could see Maribelle's concern in the subtle wrinkling of her brow. Hastily, I forced a grin onto my face. "But that's my problem, not yours, Miss Maribelle. On the other hand- or should I say _leg_ \- you did a great job with mine!"

Making a clicking sound with her tongue, Maribelle shifted in her seat, sending her coiffed hair tumbling. "Please, call me Maribelle. The combat healers did an _acceptable_ job stabilizing your leg, which made it only moderately challenging to treat the tendon and close the wound. Even with my expertise-" she leaned to one side, reaching for something just out of my vision, "The bone was cracked, the muscle was cut, and tendons do not heal easily. You will be walking with a cane until I instruct you otherwise."

She straightened, gripping a long, rough wooden walking stick with curved end. Scooching back on the cot, using my good leg to help push me into a proper sitting position, I accepted the proffered handle. "Here. Do try and avoid hitting people with it; we are not children with toy swords."

I accepted it with a quiet _thank you_ , absently wondering who had used it as a sword before laying it down on my cot. I felt my insides twist at the idea of using one- I was now an invalid to be dragged along by the Shepherds. Pushing those thoughts away, I fell back on small talk to distract myself. "Not so bad for my first outing, I suppose," I said weakly, "Thank you again, though."

Maribelle raised an eyebrow just slightly. With practised grace, she flowed from sitting to straight-backed standing, pink umbrella held daintily from both ends. "You are welcome. Now, I must attend to other patients. If you have any _quick_ questions, waste my time with them as little as possible."

Ah, yeah, that was more like the Maribelle from the game. Drawing a bit from my acting knowledge, I tried to hastily decide whether or not she _actually_ was willing to take a question. Her posture and expression told me nothing, so I was left to assume that her torso being pointed towards me meant (at the very least) 'I will tolerate a question.'

Clearing my throat- and wincing, because I _really_ needed a glass of water- I frowned. No real questions, but I had to know about her hair. "What should I call your hair? Is it, like, coiffed? Curled?"

Her expression cleared, loosening as her eyes widened just slightly, and then snapped back with a snooty snort. "Perhaps you are going deaf, Andrew? I asked you not to waste my time."

Ducking my head down and rubbing the back of my head, I felt the blackened knot of _stuff_ in my chest push towards the surface. "S-sorry," I started, grinding my teeth at the waver in my voice. Taking a calming breath, I continued, "I just wanted to, you know, be friendly? I used to act in plays, and the costuming people had so much trouble doing fancy, pretty hairdos like yours. Couldn't help but ask. I'm babbling, aren't I?" I chuckled awkwardly before snapping my jaw shut.

Maribelle stared at me for several seconds, thoughts veiled impenetrably behind her eyes. "You are babbling," she finally confirmed, rapping me gently on the head with the tip of her umbrella. To my surprise, she followed it up with a twitch of the lips and a quirked eyebrow. "I believe the term you would use is coiffed, Andrew; though I much prefer to call them noble curls. Now, you have used more of my time than I would like, so good day."

I watched her stride away with some amusement- I definitely had babbled, but I hadn't pissed off my doctor.

As the murmur of camp rose up around me, my thoughts turned inwards, towards the feelings waiting in the wings. The cane, smoothed but not polished, felt almost rough in my hands. I focused on that, trying to ignore the aching in my chest. That pain swelled upwards, swirled outwards, and slid through my thoughts like a knife in the dark.

It did not burn. I did not feel torn apart, frozen, or suffocated. I felt... useless. Cheated, a bitter part of me added.

I was, in so many words, a temporary cripple. It was my left leg, not the right, which made things just a bit better- my dominant hand would remain free while I was limping around. Fighting with a sword required me to move around quickly, and I knew quite well that I couldn't afford to take a hit. So no frontline combat, or beating things up. Plus, Maribelle would get upset with me, and I had a feeling that would be worse than the injury itself.

A darker part of me slithered to the forefront, and I grimaced. How helpful had I been in the first place? If I'd paid more attention, I wouldn't have gotten kidnapped. Grima wouldn't know to keep an eye out for Laurent. Hell, Nowi was going to escape on her own! Gregor had it covered.

Now that I thought about it, I started to wonder how much I'd actually _tried_ to do. There was a moment, a frozen heartbeat, where dread welled up from beneath my heart. What had I done of my own will here, really?

The dread faded as my memory started to work again, and I let out a wavering sigh. Robin had gotten me out there with Nowi, and I supposed that without her as a target, Drych would've killed a few pegasus knights. I'd gotten Anna to take Tiki along. Plegian soldiers learned I was kind of bad at chess.

Now I was just confused. Humor sparked, warm like a dim stagelight, and I grinned. It ached, my cracked lips protesting every moment of it, but I didn't care. "It's like I'm a product of my own actions or something," I chuckled, spinning the cane in my grip as I talked into the air, "Should probably stop being so useless, though."

Because that way, a dark part of me reasoned, there won't be a next time. No need for someone to run away if I don't need saving, right? Or, realistically, just be good enough to hold out for the cavalry to arrive. Dragon cavalry, in my case.

To avoid thinking too hard about that, I decided it was as good a time as any to get out of the cot. Swinging my legs around- why did that pull on my calf muscles?- I planted the cane on the ground and pushed myself upwards. I felt a bit woozy and lightheaded, my sight actually dimming for a moment as blood rushed out of my head.

I paused, shifting my posture so more of my weight could rest on the cane than my left foot. The medical tent was quiet- two or three healers flitted about, but the patients were all asleep. It sounded fairly low-energy outside as well, and with the thin light bleeding through the canvas, it _had_ to be early morning. I took a long, deep breath, composing myself and forming some vague semblance of a plan for the day.

This plan was unfortunately foiled by the smaller component of the dragon cavalry arriving. Specifically, a Nowi-shaped blur crashed through the tent flaps, nearly bowling Maribelle over. There was a _thump_ as she 'arrived' at high velocity, directly into my chest, followed by muffled and entirely unprintable cursing from Maribelle.

"Found you!" she cheered, the crushing weight around my waist vanishing, "Robin said I couldn't go find you, but _I_ think she's just bad at hide and seek."

As my vision cleared, I found Nowi clinging to my right arm like a limpet. I got halfway through forming a response when I realized something far more important.

"You're wearing clothes," I observed eloquently, "Like, actual clothes. Maribelle, it's a miracle." I'd say it's a christmas miracle, but Christ is Tiki and it's not her birthday. Tikimas miracle?

"I would rather you keep me outside of your buffoonery, Andrew," Maribelle grumbled, dusting herself off, "Far too dirty."

Nowi stuck out her tongue, blowing a raspberry at Maribelle. I took a moment to actually process what Nowi was wearing, because not only was she wearing clothes, she was wearing something vaguely (biological) age appropriate! Someone had managed to stick her in a pink sleeveless sundress, cinched at the waist by one of the pink ribbons from her old outfit. She still wore her long boots, but they looked comfy, so I wasn't going to judge. "You look nice today, Nowi. Why the change of outfit?"

She visibly preened, purple eyes sparkling as her yellow-green hair swished from side to side. Her smile suddenly shifted to a childish pout, arms crossed across her chest. "Hmph. Auntie Tiki made me wear it. I said no, I can do what I want! I'm an _adult_ ," she grumbled, grabbing my arm again as she stomped her feet, "But Auntie Tiki is scary, so I put it on."

Nodding at Maribelle, who was strangling me with her eyes, I smiled conspiratorially at Nowi. "Tiki is a scary woman," I agreed, "But I think you look lovely, Nowi. How about we take this outside? I need to get used to this cane."

[][][][][][][][]

My experience as an actor, for the first time ever, bit me in the arse. Getting out of the tent took about twice as long as I would have hoped, and plenty long enough for Nowi to find the whole thing hilarious. Maribelle seethed somewhere, but I had readily decided not to poke the bear.

Context would probably be helpful. And a bit of indulgence into my rambling would go a long way as well.

In the dull, pale pastels of morning, crisp are silencing my aching muscles, Nowi was leading me _somewhere_. My boots crunched through the sandy soil and dry grass, the sound swiftly stifled by the rows and rows of tents. Every so often I'd put too much weight on my left leg, add too much of a habitual flourish to my moment, and I'd have to bite back a few of the curses I'd just learned from Maribelle.

"It's not _that_ funny, Nowi. Stop laughing at the cripple," I grumbled, raising up the cane to waggle it at her. And I took a step forward, putting my weight on my injured leg. "Christ on a bike, god _damn_ that hurts!" I spit out, narrowly resisting the impulse to bite down on my own cheek.

Nowi spun around, arms swinging childishly as she grinned. "But you're doing it to yourself, Andrew! How hard is it to walk with a cane?"

I stopped, leaning on the cane as I leveled a flat glare at her. Nowi giggled, eyes twinkling as she turned away again. With a sharp exhale through my nose, I shrugged. "Not that hard, fair. But as an actor, I've had to play a lot of roles, which means picking up the best ways to exaggerate things for entertainment or thematic reasons. Further, you know, I'm- Nowi, please don't kick up sand, it just gets in my eyes- I'm tall and can do a gravelly voice, so I get typecast as authority figures."

"Meaning?" Nowi interrupted, turning sharply to the right and towards the edge of camp. Her hair swished along, and I absently wondered how she kept it so clean.

I paused for a moment, but not too long because Nowi was commanding a really brisk pace for someone just barely taller than my cane. Once I processed the words I'd spat out just a few seconds ago, I chuckled. "It means I play a lot of old people," I summarized, "And I'm only used to faking a limp, not having one."

It was Nowi's turn to pause, and I watched with interest as her ears twitched slightly. Huh, never seen that before. "Ohhh!" Nowi said cheerfully, turning her head to look at me, "Why didn't you just say that?"

That was just her being a bit dense, right? I blinked, shaking my head. No, Nowi's smarter than she lets on, she kicked my butt in chess several times. In that case, though, it meant _I_ was being dense. Being dense was definitely not out of the question.

"That's a very good question," I mulled, working my jaw, "I don't really know." How often had I confused the hell out of people I was talking to? I recalled doing that to Anna- the name called several contradictory feelings to mind- but I'd learned important things about salt from that. I just needed to remember them, eventually.

"You're silly, Andrew," Nowi said, voice pushing through my mire of thoughts, "You're even walking past the mess tent!"

I stopped abruptly, left foot clacking into the sand with just a _bit_ too much force. I let it out as a hiss that turned to a pained sigh, turning around and walking back to the mess tent entrance. Hopefully nobody would come through and knock Nowi over. "I _am_ silly, you're right," I agreed, "And you're taking me to breakfast at the crack of dawn? I know you're a hungry girl, Nowi, but..."

Nowi stuck up her nose, her posture halfway between excitement and resigned acceptance. Not even halfway, she was _both_. "Auntie Tiki says that if I'm gonna grow up big and strong, I need to eat my vegetables and have three meals a day."

Raising an eyebrow and silently wishing I'd been present for the Nowi-wrangling, I smirked. "She's not wrong," I nodded, deciding it wasn't the best time to mention that Tiki didn't appear to change at all based on her diet, "But doesn't it take you like, hundreds of years to look older?"

Shrugging, Nowi pushed the tent flap open, holding it for me as she slid through. "Ugh," she huffed, "I can gain weight and stuff. It's just hard to fit through bars if I'm larger."

That was an arrow to the heart right there, and I responded by patting the 1,000 year old dragon on the head. She seemed to like it, giggling as I stepped inside the tent. "Well, there's nothing to worry about here, Nowi. Eat however much you like, grow big and strong like Tiki said."

Nowi stuck out her tongue. "Silly. The food isn't gonna make me grow big, she just said she'd eat me if I didn't!"

I raised my finger, somewhat offended by Tiki's threats, but lowered it again as I thought about it. "I mean, she's _right_. Can't grow if she's eaten you, I suppose."

Someone coughed politely from inside the mess tent, and I looked up. My first impression of it was that, for the third time in a row, the tent was empty save for a single person. Granted, the second time it had been Kellam, who hadn't been in the actual mess tent, but the pattern stood. I absently wondered if Sumia had meant to give me a schedule or something, because it was highly improbable that a dining area for a military encampment would be this empty.

Catching that train of thought before it derailed into awkwardness, I focused on the man who'd coughed. Of the three tables in the tent, he sat at the middle one and at the seat closest to the back exit. He looked familiar- definitely a Shepherd. Brown hair, easy smile, three plates of food. Could be anyone, really.

I'm not that dense. "Oh, you'd be Stahl, right?" I said, waving with my right hand. Nowi waved as well, flitting through the tent and exiting on the other side.

He nodded, scooping a chunk of potato into his mouth and downing it uncomfortably fast. "Yup! Nice to meet you. Andrew, right? I saw you with Sumia yesterday," he shrugged, stabbing his fork into his food once again. "So what are you doing up this early? Did Maribelle kick you out?"

I hadn't recognized him right off the bat. No green armor- just a plain tan shirt and brown pants that reminded me that all the men were ripped as well as handsome. Dismissing that, I waved a hand at Nowi. "Didn't sleep well- getting stabbed in the leg isn't great for that, you know?" I chuckled, cutting it off because Stahl was busy with his food, "But mostly Nowi, actually. She dragged me out of bed."

"She's pretty smart for a kid," Stahl nodded around a mouthful of breakfast, "I bet she's even getting you a plate of food back there. Where'd you find her, again?"

Out of politeness, and hoping to avoid a choking reaction, I waited until after he'd finished chewing his next bite to speak. I took that time to limp over and take a seat across from him, letting out a grunt as I sat down. "We were both captured by the Plegians. As I'm sure you know, she's a Manakete- and I'd hope she's smart. Nowi's about a thousand years old."

Stahl, who had taken _another_ bite while I was speaking, managed to choke on his food. I smirked, feeling a bit bad for doing so, and put my weight on the rough wooden table to pat him on the back a few times. " _What?_ " he sputtered out, dropping his fork on the table as he pounded his chest, "That- she's- Naga, why does she look so _young_? How old is Miss Tiki, then? Two thousand?"

I raised a finger. "It's rude to ask a lady her age, you know," I grinned, "But I'm not the lovely lady in question," I continued, watching Stahl nod in agreement, "She's maybe three thousand years old, I think."

He blinked. "Huh. Any idea what moisturizers she uses, if any? Nowi looks to be about twelve, so Tiki could be about thirty six. I'm kinda jealous of that complexion she has..." he trailed off, and decided to start eating again.

Not judging- before ending up in a different world, I'd been a religious user of facial moisturizers- but honestly I expected maybe Lon'qu or Gaius, not Stahl. More importantly, I actually knew the answer to this question!

"She uses nothing, unfortunately," I apologized, spreading my hands in a shrug. Stahl looked crushed but unsurprised, skewing his lips in a tight smile as he quirked an eyebrow.

Nowi burst through the tent flaps, carrying two tottering plates of potato and meat. She looked triumphant, if a bit flustered, as she marched to the table and slid a plate of food in front of me. She sat down herself, grumbling as her chin got quite close to the table, but looked up at me with a lopsided grin. "Hey, look, I brought food! I bet you want to grow big and strong like Tiki, so I got you some too."

"Thank you, Nowi," I smiled warmly, picking up the fork and knife she had so graciously placed inside my potatoes, "I'll admit, I am quite hungry. I don't think I need to get any bigger, though," I added with a chuckle. The biggest thing about Tiki was probably her hair, and the long-haired look didn't suit me very well.

This dragon baffled me, frankly. With a shrug, I dug into my food and instantly remembered I was thirsty. "Ahh, crap," I croaked, coughing as the hot food scorched down my throat, "I never got any water. I'll go-"

"I already know where it is," Nowi added helpfully, cramming an entire potato in her mouth and swallowing it in one go, "I'll go get some for you!"

"You're too kind, Nowi," I smiled, patting her on the head as she got out of her chair, "But really, thanks. Anyways- oh, right. Stahl, this is Nowi. Nowi, this is Stahl."

Nowi paused halfway out of her seat, levelling her gaze at Stahl for a long moment. "Hi, Stahl! Are you a Shepherd, too?"

Stahl nodded, putting down his cutlery. "Good to meet you, Nowi. I'm a Shepherd- bit of an all-rounder. More often than not I'm helping cook the Shepherd's meals, but you can bet I'm no slouch on the battlefield," he smiled warmly and a bit lopsidedly, exuding a calm easiness that I envied.

Maybe I let a bit of that bleed into my humor, but I stopped myself short of making a jab. I brought a hand up to my chest, putting on my worst posh accent with glee, "And I am not worthy of such introductions, good sir? How dare you-" I paused to cough, catching Stahl's smirk out of the corner of my eyes, "Surely, I am just as important as this woman who can turn into a dragon."

Nowi responded with a raspberry as she popped out of her chair, scurrying towards the back of the tent. "I'm just doing this because you're nice, Andrew. I can be scary if I want! Rawr!"

I winced, remembering how that cute sound felt when it came out of a minibus-sized dragon's mouth. "Absolutely," I agreed, dropping the accent mid-word as I looked back towards Stahl, "So, where is everyone?"

"Huh?" he looked up from his food, now having polished off one and a half plates of breakfast, "Oh! Other than me, Cordelia, Frederick, and Robin, the Shepherds are all asleep right now. Well, I think Maribelle stays up as-needed, but she's never awake this early if she can help it. And Sumia sometimes gets up this early to join up with the Pegasus Knights, and..." he paused, rubbing the back of his head bashfully. "To be honest, Andrew? I've got no idea. Breakfast happens when it happens, and I'm usually the first."

I chuckled, eyeing the cup of water Nowi had set in front of me just now. "That was fast. Thank you, Nowi, I really appreciate it," I nodded, looking away as she started to dig in to her food. "It's probably a good thing. Having their first impression of Tiki being threats she made to a kid is..." I stroked my chin, pretending to think about it. "Probably bad." Stahl chuckled stiffly, but I had long ago accepted that not every joke is a winner.

"I'm _not_ a child!" Nowi fired back around a mouthful of potato, "I'm a big, strong dragon!"

Or so I assumed. What she actually said was "Imgf _noff_ ah chols. Mphf ah bff, stfff dragon!" and I did the translating. That of course got a chuckle out of me and Stahl, much to Nowi's irritation. Shrugging apologetically, I downed half the cup of water, let out a groan of relief, and started to eat my food at a _reasonable_ rate.

[][][][][][][][]

This reasonable rate, of course, meant that Stahl was wrapping up his third and final plate of breakfast when I finished my single plate. Nowi had finished her breakfast a while ago, and had taken to asking us inane questions. It reminded me of a summer job I'd done a few times- working at a summer camp up north of my hometown.

A hometown I'd never see again, I thought with a twist in my gut, but the memories were comforting. Dropping my cutlery to the table and leaning back with a satisfied sigh, I dragged myself back to reality. "Ahhh," I grunted, rolling my neck, "Compliments to the chef. That was exactly what I needed."

Nowi grinned toothily, patting her stomach as she scooted her chair backwards. "I think it needed more meat, but it was tasty!"

Stahl's easy smile widened into a lopsided smile. "You're welcome," he started, pushing himself away from the table, "I'm impressed you tasted that food, Nowi. I've never seen someone eat a whole potato in one bite. But- the early risers should be coming in soon, so it's back to the kitchen with me."

I mimed a gag at the potato comment. "That kind of eating is either horrifically impressive or impressively horrific, Nowi. At least you used a _fork_ sometimes," I turned it into a swift grin as I turned, reaching out to flick her on the nose.

Wait, no. That's how one gets a finger bitten off, and it really isn't... the right message, I suppose. I gave her a pat on the head instead, and was rewarded with contented but mischievous hum. Turning to catch Stahl's eye as he moved away with his plates, I nodded. "Thank you for breakfast, really. See you later?"

"I like to think it was impressively impressive," Nowi decided, one finger resting on the corner of her lip, "Or horrifically horrific! Which do you think is scarier for a dragon?"

Stahl looked up, muttering to himself. Probably visualising his schedule? "Maybe around lunch," he said with certainty, looking back at me, "It's a stir fry today. I know that's not a crowd pleaser, but nobody hates it either and it's good eating."

Frankly, this whole camp was full of heretics. I prepared the usual argument, but then several things happened in short order.

Well, one thing. That thing just happened to be several Shepherds plus a veritable wall of sound as they flooded in.

Vaike and Sully entered first, and at the same time. They did their best to push each other over, shouldering and bumping with rough glee. Despite (or rather, because of) their best efforts, both were visibly dusted with dirt and mud. As I watched, Vaike grabbed Sully by the waist and hauled them both to the ground-

And two gauntleted hands snapped out, hoisting the pair upright as Frederick strode into the tent with the usual scowl. "We are Shepherds, not children. Behave yourselves," he admonished curtly, "I expect you will not disrupt my breakfast." He patted them both heavily on the shoulder, striding straight past them without waiting for a response.

Vaike grumbled, but had the good sense to shut up as Sully dragged them both to their seats- the closer end of one of the side tables, probably because it was close to the 'kitchen' area I had never actually seen. Frederick glanced at us (that being me, Nowi, and Stahl) shortly, offering a curt nod of greetings. He started removing his gauntlets, but I turned my gaze back towards the front of the tent before I could see where he was headed.

Virion was next, delicately straightening the collar of his blue vest as he removed the cravat. I wondered how he ate with those frilly sleeves, but my question was immediately answered when he pushed them up to his elbow and moved aside. I could see him working his way towards us- "Stahl, my friend! Perhaps you could indulge me- who are these fine companions of yours?" - but I couldn't even focus on _that_ , because more people were coming through.

A few Shepherds had already entered while I was following Virion's path- based on the giant hats in the corner of my eye, that would be Ricken and Miriel. I didn't make the same mistake this time, and kept watching the entrance. Chrom was next, shortly followed by Sumia; I wouldn't have spotted Gaius if he hadn't loudly answered an equally loud question from Sully. Lon'qu came in next, running a hand through messy brown hair as he scanned the room. Then came Lissa, who was dragging a disgruntled Maribelle by the wrist.

Oh, and Kellam had shown up at some point. I waved at him, and he waved back politely.

Tuning back in to the conversations around me, I jumped in my seat. Virion was standing directly across from my seat, and Nowi had gotten a second plate of food without me noticing. Stahl, who had taken my plate and stacked it with his own, had an easy smile on his face as he spoke. "...met them maybe ten minutes ago, and I have to get back to cooking, so you'll have to ask them for the rest," he finished, nodding to both of us, "Nowi, Andrew; this is Virion. He's one of our archers-"

"The archest," Virion interrupted smoothly, raising a gloved hand, "Do not allow us to keep you from your work, Stahl. I will introduce myself."

Stahl stuck out his chin. "Hey, see you two later. If Lon'qu asks where I am, send him to the kitchen, alright?" And with that, he hurried away.

Virion cleared his throat, seating himself gracefully and resting his clasped hands on the table. Twitching his head to push some of his long, grey-blue hair behind his shoulder, he offered us a very faint smile. "My name, good friends, is Virion. Though you are no doubt from faraway lands- perhaps you have heard of me?"

Nowi pushed herself up, resting her elbows on the table as she looked at Virion. "Hmm," she hummed, setting her chin on top of interlaced fingers, "Nope! You look neat, though. Are you from Valm?"

Virion's eyebrow twitched subtly as he plastered on a grin. "I am indeed from Valm, miss Nowi. That is quite perceptive- not one of my compatriots has so much as guessed at my heritage yet!"

As he performed, I dug through my memory. Anna had mentioned Virion in passing, and I had _met_ Cherche just a few weeks ago. I cursed under my breath as I recalled the letter Cherche had handed me. Assuming Anna hadn't torn it up, it was still sitting with the rest of my clothes in the back of her cart. Thinking about her stirred unpleasant thoughts, so I doubted I'd be looking for her any time soon.

I went with the next best choice. I drummed my fingers on the table, scooching my chair inwards as Miriel sidled past, and furrowed my brow in thought. "Oh!" I said, allowing false realization to brighten my expression, "You wouldn't happen to know, hm, a woman with a wyvern? Her name was Cherche."

His expression shifted rapidly from relaxed to concerned, brown eyes sharpening as he leaned forwards. "Ah, you _do_ know of me," he said dryly, "Things are going well, I hope?"

"She was helping refugees get to Ferox," I started, dropping my own act, "I had a letter for you, but I'm afraid it's in the possession of someone I can't reach right now. She misses you, I think."

"Ah," Virion replied quietly, "She is not alone in that regard. But!" he clapped his hands, straightening and then sliding out of his chair. "Perhaps we may continue this discussion in private, and with full bellies, hm? Miss Nowi, it is unbecoming of a lady such as yourself-"

Nowi looked up from her plate, having stuffed half a potato down her gullet only moments before. She grinned a bit too widely, and I _swore_ I saw fangs. "What was that, mister?"

"Nothing, nothing. Just speaking to myself on unimportant matters. I will return shortly with breakfast," he said hastily, backing away and hurrying directly into the kitchen.

"It's rude to threaten strangers, you know," I admonished, leaning back in my seat with a groan, "And he's kind of right. You have cutlery for a reason."

"I'm a thousand years old," she mumbled around a mouthful of potato, "I can do what I want." Swallowing, she giggled to herself. "Did you see his face? It's fun to scare people, just a little bit."

Shrugging noncommittally, my thoughts drifted to some recent memories. "I mean, it's kind of funny," I mused. The way Anna squeaked when startled, jumping nearly a foot into the air- no, no. No more about her.

A meaty hand slapped down on my shoulder, sending me upright with a yelp. Nowi jittered at the sound, looking puzzled. "Ah, is friends! Gregor was worried, but seems friends got through, eh?"

Cursing situational irony under my breath, and giving a giggling Nowi a halfhearted glare, I turned to look at Gregor. He smiled down at me, warm eyes betraying nothing of his inner thoughts.

I rubbed the back of my head, clearing my throat. "Oh, hey Gregor! We're, uh, fine, I guess. My leg's messed up, but it could've been much worse." For instance, if I hadn't been loud enough for Chrom and Tiki to hear me. Drych didn't seem like the type to give up easily, after all.

Nowi giggled- though I caught the hitch in her voice and the twitch of her expression. "I got to squish some bad guys! You should have been there, mister Gregor!"

Gregor chuckled, circling the table and taking a seat across from Nowi. He set down the plate of food he'd been holding in his off hand, but didn't dig in. "Gregor wishes, yes. But Gregor had work to do, helping pretty lady move heavy things!"

That didn't narrow it down at all. I gestured broadly to the room around me with a wry grin. "Which one, Gregor? Literally everyone in this room is pretty."

Sumia, who had sat down further up the table, blushed. I offered her a smile and a wave, which she returned awkwardly. Chrom, who was unsure what was going on, waved as well. He was pretty too, so it worked out. Feeling Nowi's pouting glare on my side, I winked at her. "I'd say you're more _adorable_ , but you too, Nowi."

"Ha!" Gregor barked, pausing to take a bite of his breakfast, "Is very true. Gregor is surrounded by pretty women. This one was miss Cordelia. Long red hair, as pretty as she was busy!" Leaning forward, he dropped his voice to a conspiratory whisper. "Do not tell friends, but Gregor played trick. Cordelia seemed very tired, so Gregor put sprinkle of sleepy herbs in her tea!"

Um. "I have no idea how to feel about that," I admitted, because _Gregor had drugged someone_ , "On one hand, she needs it. On the other, you just, well..." I trailed off. I felt my gut twist at the idea.

Nowi grumbled, tugging at my shirt. "Andrew, do you want water? I'm getting more breakfast."

"Thank you, Nowi- of course. Be reasonable, other people need to eat too," I agreed absently, still looking at Gregor.

"Why angry stare?" Gregor asked, one red eyebrow raised, "Have no faith in Gregor? Friend Sumia made sure Cordelia was safe. Gregor is no bandit, eh?"

I blinked awkwardly. "Oh," I started, "Sorry about that. Just be careful, alright?" I cleared my throat. "Right. Anyways."

We sat there quietly, surrounded by the chatter of Shepherds. Gregor ate his meal steadily, only stopping when Nowi returned with her third plate and a cup of water for me. "Ah!" he nodded, grinning to himself, "Gregor forgot. Met new friend Tiki last night. Is Andrew's friend as well, yes?"

"I'd like to think so," I said carefully, thinking for a moment, "Yeah, she's a friend. If you're looking for her, she's never up this early, sorry."

"Good," Nowi muttered, "She's scary." I raised an eyebrow at her, and Nowi rolled her eyes in response. Well, she has a point. Tiki _is_ scary.

Chuckling, Gregor shook his head. "Was not point. Very strong woman, strong mind too. Gregor shared stories with Tiki, and Gregor learned important thing about Andrew!" He slammed his hands down on the table, his expression sharpening into a serious, almost menacing scowl.

I put my hands up preemptively, glancing around the room. Good, nobody noticed- that, or they weren't looking up to check what they heard. "N-now, I'm not sure what she said, but it's a lie. Unless it's good things, in which case it's absolutely true."

"You," he rumbled, drumming heavy fingers on wooden surface, "You have slighted Gregor. Only one way to apologise."

Now I was just baffled. I shrugged, looking at Nowi. She shrugged back innocently, as if she hadn't shovelled half a plate of food into her mouth. "What'd I do?"

Expression lightening just a tad, Gregor levelled his glare at me. "Andrew knew _Boris_ and did not tell Gregor? Knew _Boris the Glacier_ , heard Gregor's way of speaking, and said nothing?"

Stress washed off my shoulders in a wave. I laughed, muscles loosening and emotions un-knotting. "You can't do that crap to me, Gregor," I chuckled, pausing to take a sip of water, "Damn, I really thought I'd done something wrong. No idea what."

Gregor laughed back, patting himself on the stomach. "Such stress in your shoulders, Gregor could _feel_ it. Take load off- tell Gregor about third cousin Boris. How is he?"

I'd smiled before, but now it felt more free. "Of course, Gregor," I sighed, shifting in my seat, "He's your third cousin? Really?... I'd be happy to tell you about him, Gregor."

And I was.

{}{}{Anna}{}{}

I was _not_ happy. The peace and quiet of the open road had, for a little bit, returned to me (now nag-free!) but it didn't feel right. Maybe my wallet was too light, or someone had nicked cargo from my cart on the way out of town. Maybe I was missing something important.

Either way, that was pretty easily dealt with. I'd been doing this for ten years, after all. Hey, I even had time to catch up on my novels in the mornings now!

"My deepest apologies, miss Anna," said the kid, pushing his glasses up his face, "I had you mistaken for your sibling."

No, _that_ is why I was unhappy. I'd rolled through a little town on my way to Ferox, and along the way I'd picked up a _freeloader_ of sorts. Big hat, bigger robes, and an Arcfire tome that'd seen one too many battles. I wondered, shortly, what I'd done to piss off Naga.

Okay, fine. I knew _quite well_ what I'd done, but Tiki would be fine.

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I let out a long sigh. "Look, I get it," I started, flashing my best fake smile, "And she's several years younger than me, so I'll take that as a compliment. But you can't just jump on people's carts like that. You haven't even introduced yourself!"

He nodded curtly. "Of course. My name is Laurent," pausing, he frowned. "That will suffice. Now, miss Anna, might I convince you to escort me to the Shepherds?"

I groaned loudly, slouching in my seat.

This was why I didn't get involved. Too many expensive loose ends.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}


	19. Stars in Motion

{}{}{Anna}{}{}

The single greatest thing about Plegia, in my opinion, was the lack of rain. No need to worry about muddy boots, damp clothing, or low visibility. That probably wasn't as great for anyone that lived here- or for caravan merchants, who had to sacrifice cargo space for water- but I wasn't them. As an added bonus, it kept the tea leaves dry, and those tea leaves were going to make me quite a lot of money.

And, in _theory_ , I didn't have to worry about random hitchhikers in the middle of the desert. Just bandits and merchants- kill the former, shmooze with the latter, and then I'd be on my way.

It seemed like I didn't have much luck with that theory.

Laurent, who had the twitchy reflexes of a fighter and the wide-eyed innocence of a copperless fool, was probably the only hitchhiker in all of Plegia. The only _living_ one, at least. And of course, he wanted me to turn around and head back to the Shepherds. No dice on that one, for obvious reasons- but I couldn't just leave him here in the desert. So, I offered to take him to the next town instead.

I was also coming to regret that decision. Nothing new there.

"If I may inquire, miss Anna, what do you know about the ongoing war?" he removed a tattered journal from his robes, producing a long stick of charcoal with which to write. "As a merchant on the road, surely you overheard something of importance."

I rolled my eyes, shifting in my seat. Why was this kid so interested in the war? Joining up was practically suicidal, and for someone so young, it was just plain stupid. Neatly organizing what I _did_ know, I picked out bits that might prompt him to answer my unspoken questions. "Well," I started, putting a finger to my chin, "The Shepherds are in Plegia, that's for sure. Saved a town from... what were they called? Risen?"

"Correct. I did not expect them to exist here in any large capacity, but I suppose enough is dif-" Laurent stopped abruptly. "I have encountered them before, but not here."

Oh, so he was _hiding_ something. "Hm. Hopefully there aren't many in Ferox," I mused aloud, adjusting my grip on the reins, "So the Shepherds, right? They're headed deeper into Plegia for some reason. Not sure why, though."

"But they are here," Laurent nodded, scribbling something in his journal, "Fascinating. Is the Exalt among them?"

A puzzle started to put itself together in my head. I didn't even realize it was there until Laurent spoke again, but now that I did, I had to finish it. "The Exalt? Why would they be here?"

Emmeryn was still alive, and unless she'd hit her head a few times, she was firmly against violence. The Shepherds were practitioners of violence for a higher cause, which probably doesn't pay very well, but to each their own. Andrew'd mentioned something about future children, hadn't he?

"Because he leads the Shepherds, of course," Laurent said, blinking owlishly, "Why wouldn't- oh dear. Pardon me," he turned away, muttering something under his breath.

Just my damn luck, wasn't it? "You're from the future, aren't you," I challenged, smirking as his head snapped up, eyes wide with shock, "No wonder you thought I was my sister. She joined the Shepherds, and you wanted a ride to meet your parents."

Laurent nodded slowly, visibly shaken. "Y-you are correct, miss Anna. I will not question how- your family always seems to know more than I expect. It has been... a great many years since I saw Mother or Father, and I- I became overeager." He looked down, pulling himself inward in an attempt to look as small as possible.

The kid couldn't have been older than fifteen, and he wanted to join a war. Being from the future made it somehow more sensible, but I wasn't happy with it. Letting out a pained sigh, I slumped back in my seat. "Doesn't change much. I won't take you to the Shepherds, but I guess..."

I could take him to the next town, as planned. Quick and easy- wash my hands of the matter and then earn a lot of gold selling tea. That'd cheer me up for sure. So I cleared my throat, put a finger to my chin, and flashed a merchant's smile. "Tell you what, Laurent, I've learned the hard way not to give people free rides. Oh, don't give me that," I admonished, waggling a finger at his hardening expression, "But! I'm in need of extra help in case I run into bandits. I'll waive your fee- and maybe give you a little bit of pocket change- and take you all the way to Port Ferox."

Offering him a hand, I raised an eyebrow. "Deal?"

Laurent looked at my hand for a long moment, thoughts roiling in his eyes. Tentatively, he grasped my hand and shook it. "It seems Sir Andrew, despite his many faults, was right once again," he decided, looking me in the eyes, "I accept your deal, miss Anna."

There was a sinking feeling in my chest, but I didn't know why. I took a stab at guessing, though. "Say, how good are you with that tome of yours?" I can't believe I just hired someone without checking their skills. I'm going soft.

"I am quite competent with the elemental magics- before her passing, my mother was an excellent teacher," Laurent assured me, "It was said that she could turn any peasant with the talent into a battle-ready mage in mere days."

Nope, still felt weird. "I'm not sure how that last part is helpful, but you've convinced me. Now, Laurent, if you would grab me my bow, I think I see some bandits on the horizon..."

[][Andrew][]

Breakfast had given me much-needed clarity: the food was nice, but it was more the people and things surrounding breakfast that had kept darker thoughts at bay.

Maybe a bit _too_ well. With Tiki still dead asleep, I found myself without anything to do. More accurately, _Robin_ found me with nothing to do. And since I was utterly useless on the front lines with my limp (Though Robin had put it more nicely, bless her), she sent me to go work with Miriel.

I had been pretty excited at first- I could chip in as a mage, assuming I was trainable. What sort of secrets lay in the art of casting?

"Once again, your mana flow is being dampened. You are allowing it to accumulate pre-cast in your chest, which-"

The secret of magic, unfortunately, was _practice_. Lots and lots of practice controlling mana, which should apparently be instinctual for anyone who'd been born with the talent. Magic does not exist in America, and the same presumably went for everywhere else in my old world.

"I know, I know," I grumbled, waving her off using the tome, "Worst case scenario, I get a bit of heartburn. Let's try this again." Straightening as much as I could- I still had to put weight on the cane rather than my left leg- I held up the Wind tome in one hand. Deep breaths, focusing on the energy as it passed through me.

It's a bit difficult to describe what magic feels like. The most familiar comparison I could make was to relaxing- meditation, almost. Like laying down and breathing deeply, letting your body sink into the bed as stress drains from your body. If I were to take that feeling and make it follow my pulse, going outwards from the heart and ending at my fingertips, _that_ was what magic felt like.

And when I got it snagged, letting it pool in my chest rather than pushing it out (but not too quickly, as Miriel constantly reminded me), that feeling was instead of mild heartburn. Unlike usual heartburn, there was no greasy food to cause it, so it just sucked as an experience.

So I let mana flow outward from my chest, pushing it along my arm and into the tome. For a moment, the air in front of me pulsed green, distorting like a glass lens. Ha! I'd done it, and it only took an hour or two. Sparks and breezes I could do right off the bat- but in Miriel's words, "We are not attempting to entertain, we are attempting to commit homicide." Wise words, I guess.

"Excellent. Now disconnect the spell before it implodes, please," Miriel interjected, utterly shattering my focus. I'm sure she didn't mean it, but the word 'implode' was quite concerning.

Spiderwebbing across my cracked concentration, I hastily reined the spell back into my control. The warping disk of green shuddered, sending shivering needles up my arm and into my chest. Holding strong- and wincing as the spell distorted- I let mana flow through me again, trickling into the tome and slowly shaping the greenish air into a crescent blade of light.

"And..." I took a deep breath in, tightening my grip on the spell, "Now!"

Wind whipcracked across the clearing, slamming harmlessly into an impromptu target dummy. Dry dust and silty sand, kicked up in the wake of the spell, drifted gently to the ground.

I saw Miriel nod sharply out of the corner of my eye. "Acceptable. Inefficiently cast, but progress is being made."

A grin crept across my face- the spell had actually worked, even if it wasn't very strong. The thrill reminded me of the first time I rode a bicycle on my own, gliding down the street with newfound freedom. "Well, progress is progress," I said cheerily, closing the tome as I rolled my neck, "Not that I have a clue how this works. After the last few tries, I was _sure_ I was just trying to hold on to the mana too tightly-" I paused for a second, working my jaw. "Well, I guess that's how you'd put it. It's kinda hard to put into words for me."

In the comfortable quiet that followed, the sounds of camp rose around us. They were packing up- maybe another half hour and we'd be on the road again. This time I'd get to sit in a cart, because I was 'injured personnel.' That sounded great until I realized that meant I'd be stuck with Maribelle.

Maribelle's great, don't get me wrong. We get along just fine. Nowi and Maribelle, on the other hand, do not get along. Apparently that's my fault.

Miriel coughed politely, adjusting her giant hat and straightening her dark red hair. "You were saying?"

I drew a blank, feeling my cheeks flush under the hot sun. "What _was_ I saying?"

"You were performing critical analysis of your casting technique," Miriel replied curtly, twirling her quill in one hand, "And then, as is typical by my observation, you distracted yourself."

Inputting her words into my Miriel to English translator, I frowned. "Oh, yeah. My bad. Well, you were saying that I was throttling my mana flow, and since I have no idea what good mana flow is supposed to look like, I took a few guesses. I pushed more of the stuff out this time before the spell started to form, which clearly worked, but then I had to reshape the spell by using even _more_ mana." I felt a bit like an idiot talking about it, frankly. It was like walking into a harder math class at college and trying to muddle along anyways.

And Miriel was the incarnation of the _professors_ in that situation. Appropriately, she adjusted her glasses and furrowed her brow. "Is this the first time you have attempted to use a tome as a weapon?"

I nodded, flipping the tome open and feeding a trickle of mana into it. The air in front of me hummed, tinging a circle of the world a faint green. "Yeah. I've used Fire tomes to light fires, but that's about it."

"Ah. This would explain why you brought a sword- to remain in practice for when your leg is healed, correct?" she gestured to the belt hanging off a nearby chair with her quill.

I followed the motion, letting out a grunt of surprise. "Huh. Not really- too much weight goes on my feet to use it properly. I guess I'm just used to carrying it around?"

Absently, I hoped Maribelle wouldn't be too mad about it. She'd see the sword and instantly think I'd been running around on an injured leg. Shaking my head, I glanced back at Miriel. "Anyways. I know I can _cast_ with a tome- I actually created sparks from a Fire Tome without having it in my hand. Why do you ask?"

Miriel scratched something out in her journal, making a clicking noise with her tongue. "Being aware of your previous experiences and dispositions with magic allows me to assemble a more complete image of what we must work on going forward. Unfortunately, your ability to cast without hand contact with the implement eliminates the majority of my predictions."

I'd taken enough writing classes to pull meaning out of Miriel's words, but it still took a bit of thinking. Wincing as my right arm twitched, I frowned. "Is... uh, 'hands-free' magic a good thing?"

"It is not uncommon, merely worthy of note," she began, bursting my bubble before it truly formed, "I recall it being discussed in a study by the Magus College. To summarize, your issue is not a mana channeling deficit, as I suspected; you simply have a smaller than average reservoir of mana."

"So you're saying," I started slowly, digesting her words, "That while I can handle the energy just fine, I don't have a lot to work with in the first place?" I was pleased to have one at all, given I came from a world without magic in the first place.

"That is correct," she affirmed, straightening and putting on a 'teacher voice', "We may have to stop for the day so I can develop a more suitable plan. My standing theory is-"

Her burgeoning monologue was interrupted by a sound not unlike several whips being cracked at once. Or just one big whip, but I was fairly certain it didn't work like that.

We both jumped, my leg aching as I spun around to see the source of the noise. Dust filled the air, rippling but swiftly settling. My free arm ached with fatigue, and I felt a hot flush run across my face. "...I was holding that spell the entire time, wasn't I?"

Miriel nodded, looking downrange at the now slightly-battered training dummy. "It would appear as such, yes. Do it again."

Blinking slowly, I worked my jaw. "You want me to... accidentally hold a spell until it casts itself?"

"Yes. Preferably now, as we are running out of time before we depart," she waved her hand at the dummy, looking down at her journal. "This is fascinating, and I must study it."

I'd thought from Miriel's in-game supports that I was in for a ride, sure. Just not this much of a ride. Squaring my shoulders and rolling my neck, I nodded. "Alright. Prepare your most distracting conversation points, Miriel; I have a spell to forget."

{}{}{Anna}{}{}

Unfortunately, the bandits were smarter than the rocks they were hiding behind. By the time Laurent found my bow, they'd gotten their own crossbows trained on us- and, being only _slightly_ smarter than rocks, they would only shoot if I did.

"Keep your tome at the ready, Laurent," I muttered, not taking my eyes off the bandits, "Things are going to get messy."

"I assumed as such," he replied, voice quavering. Oh, great. Hopefully his nerves don't get me burnt to a crisp.

One of the bandits swaggered out in front of my cart, one hand hooked around a battered leather belt as the other stroked an unkempt beard. "Well, lookie here!" he laughed, brown eyes gleaming with malice, "Looks like we got ourselves sum _visitors_."

Three bandits on the right, two on the left, one in the center. None were aiming at the horses. Good. I put on my signature Anna smile, tossing my hair over one shoulder. "I wasn't expecting to run into anyone in the desert, let alone you fine gentlemen," I lied, each word dripping with airheaded sweetness, "I'd hate to be rude. My name is Anna, and this is my assistant, La _wrence_. He does my bookkeeping, don't you Lawrence?"

Laurent nodded fervently. "O-of course. Pays- pays well enough."

Okay then. Bad liar. Looks like I got too used to having an actor as an assistant. The twang in my heart seemed to agree, but I recovered quickly. "Oh, don't mind him," I giggled, waving a hand and setting down the reins, "He's just shy. So, who are you fine fellows?"

The bandit's eyes flicked over to one side, chin jutting up as he signalled for them to do _something_. Probably to sidle in. I took that moment to count how many daggers were on my person- ten. That should do nicely. While he said something I ignored entirely, I planned out my route.

Laurent would hesitate and then blast the bandit he'd been eyeing this entire time. I'd throw a dagger at the crossbowman closest on my right, roll forwards, kill the leader and use his body to block the bolt incoming from the far left. By that point, the right side would have recovered, and...

"...of course, we'll let you go if you're willing to, ah, _entertain_ us, free of charge," the bandit finished, grin widening.

Never mind that. I'll kill him first.

I pretended to think about it, nudging Laurent with my elbow. " _Left_ ," I whispered sharply, " _then right_."

He nodded, and I cleared my throat. "Well, boys, if the alternative is what I think it is..."

The bandit's grin got just a little bit wider as I stood up, brushing myself off. "Smart lady, this one," he said, mostly to himself.

I wiped it right off his face- it melted into horror as he scrabbled at his windpipe. Well, he was probably more worried about the dagger that was going _through_ his neck, and hopefully out the other side. "You're up!" I barked to Laurent, launching a dagger at the furthest crossbowman on the right. From the gasp I heard, it must have hit him somewhere important.

I dove, turning the momentum into a rolling slide as a crossbow bolt whizzed in from the left. I heard a blast behind me, followed by a wave of heat- the kid had done his job. That bought me the half-second I needed to grab the leader's body, which was conveniently still standing, and use it to block the bolt coming in from the right. Tossing his body to the ground (oof, what did this man eat? Rocks?) I pulled out another dagger.

The nearest target was the first crossbowman- who had pulled out a rusty shortsword already. Slipping to the side of his frantic swipe, I kicked him in the side of the knee and threw a dagger at the second crossbowman. The line severed, prematurely launching the bolt into the back of the bandit I'd just crippled.

Good. The guy dropped his broken crossbow, flicking his eyes over my back. That brief hesitation allowed me to dash forwards, break his stance with a leg sweep, and plant a dagger in his heart as he fell. My muscles started to complain, so I took a moment to breathe.

I did a mental count- the two I'd just dropped were either dead or very close to it, and I had in fact killed the one in the way back with that first dagger. If I had spotted all the bandits, the only living one would be... the second bandit on the left side, unless Laurent was faster than expected.

I spun around, ripping the dagger out of the bandit's chest and throwing it at where I thought my next opponent was. It hit the flaming bandit, who probably didn't notice over the screaming. The only living and unharmed bandit- the second bandit on the left, as I'd thought- decided to cut his losses and run screaming out into the desert.

With that out of the way, I took a deep breath to calm my pulse. "Ahh," I groaned, rolling my suddenly aching shoulders, "That was not what I had planned for today."

Laurent stared at me, fingers bone white as they gripped his tome.

Nothing to say, it seemed. "Well, we'd better get going. There might be more of them, and I'd rather spare us the inconvenience," I grunted, pacing the ground as I picked up my daggers, "That, and the vultures'll be here in no time, what with the war."

"Of course, of course," Laurent nodded jerkily, looking away. "I apologize. While I have had to... had to kill people in the future, it still disquiets me."

That was pretty sensible, in my eyes. He'd done his job, so no harm done. I put on a smile, bending over to drag the bandit leader out of the road. "Would it be _had_ or _have_ , Laurent? It's in the future, but also your past. Also, would you give me a hand here? Riding over dead bodies in a cart is awful."

Visibly pulling himself together, Laurent pocketed his tome and scurried over. "Understandably. I'm afraid linguistics is not my primary field of study, let alone the grammatical complications of time travel. Perhaps in your case it would be-"

"Lift with your legs, not your back," I interjected curtly, grunting as I pulled up the bandit by the arms. No blood on my clothes so far, which was nice. Just on my boots, which were easily cleaned.

He coughed politely before setting the bandit's feet down and trying again, this time wih a straight back. "Of course. As I was saying, in my context I suspect it would be ' _had_ ,' while in yours it would be ' _have'_ until the time of the event has passed in this version of the future."

The words coming out of his mouth made sense individually, and the sentences were coherent. My mind, on the other hand, did not enjoy wrapping itself around time travel, but it was sort of my fault anyways. "Eh, good enough," I shrugged. "I don't plan on involving myself with this... Shepherdy timey stuff, so that's all I need to know."

Laurent's unimpressed gaze was easily brushed aside. I don't do hero stuff, and that was _hero stuff_.

[][Andrew][]

Miriel's excellent adventures in science were tragically cut short by an irritated Cordelia and a slightly less irritable Frederick.

I noticed first, having just managed to fire off a crescent blade of Wind consciously. They approached from the center of camp- or rather, where it should have been. Looks like we went a bit over on time. Tragic.

For Miriel, at least. It was life-saving for me, and I reacted appropriately.

"At last!" I intoned dramatically, stowing my Wind tome and performing a gentleman's bow, "I am saved from this torment. Take me away from here before my arm falls off, please." I dropped the drama slightly for the last sentence, glancing upwards with a raised eyebrow.

Cordelia stifled a laugh, trying desperately to school her expression back into a stern frown. Frederick looked... about the same. I took that as a win. Rolling her neck, Cordelia crossed her arms and sighed. " _There_ you are, Andrew. If you're going to keep things out of inventory, you could at least notify me before taking them."

It took me a second to figure out what she was referring to. I raised an eyebrow, limping over to my belt and unhooking the Duke's sheathe. "Sorry about that. Did it mess up your inventory numbers?"

Frederick clasped his hands behind his back, jerking his chin in greeting to Miriel. After a slight pause, he opened his mouth to speak-

"No, of course not!" Cordelia said sharply, uncrossing her arms as she strode over to me, "I never put anything in inventory unless it physically enters the tent. The quartermaster would have my head for that, I'm sure," she added, looking down at the ground.

I glanced from Frederick to Cordelia, hoping Frederick would get the question. He nodded sharply, if a bit irritably from the interruption. Maybe someone will tell her that she's the quartermaster some day. Today was probably not the right day for that.

"I'm here for _this_ ," Cordelia continued, grabbing the belt and slinging it over her shoulder. "This belt was provided to you by me, er, by the caravan supplier, and it was _supposed_ to return so I could get a proper fitting. I thought it had been, and I was going crazy trying to find it... oh, sorry." She added, adjusting the buckles so they didn't glint in my eyes.

Thankfully lowering my hand, I shrugged with my one free arm. "Sorry about that. I'm just so used to carrying the Duke around that I didn't even think about it."

It was then that she noticed my cane, her expression drooping slightly. "Oh, did-"

"Ahem."

We turned in different directions- Cordelia turned to Miriel, and I turned to Frederick. They had both cleared their throats at the same time, and were now looking at each _other_. Miriel blinked owlishly, stowing her notebook. "My duties are secondary to the Shepherds, Frederick. I insist, you should speak first."

Frederick shook his head, eyes closing for a moment. "Once I have said my piece, I will be taking Andrew with me. It is you who should speak."

After a short pause, Miriel nodded curtly. "Very well. Andrew is not ready to serve as a mage, but he has the aptitude required to assist them. I suggest he be deployed with the healers during the upcoming engagement."

With an irritated click of the tongue, Frederick turned back towards me. "So you say, Miriel. I will inform Robin of this development. And now, Andrew: you were expected to report back to Robin ten minutes ago. Miss Tiki has since informed us that you have... something to disclose, and you are now expected at the front of the caravan train," he paused, narrowing his eyes at me. Based on his expression, being a dragon did not instantly make someone a credible source. "In addition, you were expected to report to Miss Maribelle five minutes ago for your injury."

The more I thought about it, the more my insides knotted themselves. Tiki could really only mean one thing: I needed to talk about Emmeryn. What would they think of me then? Would they call me mad? Or would they think I was a spy sent by Plegia? Tiki could back me up, but I can only push my luck so far. And at that point- Anna taking me along for whatever reason, Tiki crashing right in front of us, and countless other things- my luck had to be near its limit.

Focus, Andrew. I raised a hand to stall Cordelia's question, closing my eyes and taking a long, deep breath. In, and out. Banish the anxiety. Scour the fear. In my respite I organized my thoughts, squared my shoulders, and looked Frederick in the eyes. "Sorry, I'm still not used to this Shepherd thing," I lied, "And there's a lot to talk about. I probably could have done a better job of keeping track of time, maybe by asking Miriel, but that's in the past. Frederick, could you take me to Maribelle first? My leg is starting to ache, and I'd rather not have to interrupt my meeting with Robin."

Not quite a lie, not quite the truth. I needed time to focus myself, come up with some way to talk about Emmeryn and the execution. If she died, Plegia's morale would shatter- but I couldn't walk away. I couldn't leave someone to die like that.

[][][][][][][][]

The dread didn't fade as Maribelle fussed over me. It oozed over my heart like tar, dragging me downwards and sticking to everything it touched. As I limped out of the tent, each step grinding against my will, a thousand different scenarios played out. If Emmeryn lived, how long would the war go? How many soldiers- how many regular people, men and women I could sit down and play checkers with- would die?

If she died, would I be able to live with myself?

I would. I'd move on, my heart murmured darkly, I'd forget the burden. Just like always. The feelings, as with all things, would pass.

Drawing a long, shuddering breath from the hot air, I leaned heavily on my cane. I chuckled forcibly, shading my eyes as the front of the caravan came into view. I saw Chrom, blue hair gleaming; beside him, nearly in his shadow, was Robin. Virion was there too, one hand resting against the rough table everyone was inspecting as he stroked his chin. Not long after, Tiki came into view, green eyes glinting above a faint smirk as she regaled her companions with a story I couldn't hear.

And then, an eternity later- or perhaps only a heartbeat- we were there. Frederick bowed, voice dull against my ears as I tried to compose myself. Tiki sidled over, patting me on the shoulder and offering me an encouraging smile.

She nodded politely to Frederick as he took his spot. As I stepped closer, I saw they were all inspecting a map I remembered quite well. It was not a perfect copy of the chapter where Emmeryn died, but it was surprisingly close. The desert had roads in it, most notably- which made more sense than a city only accessible by camel or winged animal. I absently wondered how we'd run into Tharja and Libra, dragging my mind away from the dark corners it'd taken a liking to.

I chuckled to myself. Were my thoughts just a cat, whimsical and sometimes prone to hiding under beds? Drawing myself up to my full height, I ripped my heart from the tarlike doubt and smiled.

"Hopefully you weren't waiting too long, everyone. I've had a stressful few days, and it's been really hard to collect myself recently," I apologized, methodically making eye contact with everyone, "Probably not as busy as you all, I'm sure."

Robin nodded vigorously, leafing through a massive pile of notes as Chrom rubbed the back of his head. Frederick looked like he had a lot of things to say, but was too polite to say them. Virion inclined his head, locking eyes with me. "It was but a moment, my friend," he assured me, drumming one hand against the wooden table, "And the lovely Miss _Tiki_ has been a joyful entertainer." He winked at Tiki brazenly.

Either he didn't know Tiki was the Voice, or he was a braver man than I. Tiki took it graciously, tilting her head and crossing her arms across her chest. "When you get to by my age, Virion, you have more stories than time to tell them. At times I feel like I must recount my history just to make space for other things!" she paused, returning one hand to my shoulder with a comforting pat. "Andrew, if you are still troubled by recent events, I can speak for you. You never agreed to this, after all. Simply supply corrections as I go, and-"

I rolled my eyes, waving my hand to hide the flush. "Tiki, please. At that rate, we'd be here until sunset and Stahl will have eaten all of our lunches."

That got a quiet chuckle from Robin, a _polite_ one from Virion, and a smile from Chrom. Frederick laughing at an icebreaker joke would probably give me a heart attack. Quite fortunately, he did not laugh, and the day continued.

Tiki raised an eyebrow, jerking her chin towards Chrom. Right. I was here for a reason. So, pushing my thoughts against my wavering resolve, I knew that I wouldn't be able to say it. But a good stage actor is always willing to improvise, just in case something goes wrong.

"Tomorrow, you move on Gangrel and the Plegian Army," I intoned, each word clear, crisp, and hard-edged. "And a few months ago, Emmeryn survived an assassination attempt thanks to a woman calling herself Marth. She uses a weapon identical to Chrom's Falchion." I had my foot in the door now. All I needed was to open it the rest of the way.

"That," Frederick said sharply, "Is confidential information, Andrew. I expect a full explanation."

Robin only nodded, eyes fixed firmly on her notes. "Go on. You're with her, aren't you?"

"In a way, yes," I answered cryptically, not really wanting to get into it, "But the important part is that she has her own Falchion and claims to know the future. Or is from the future, I don't recall. When you call Phila and the pegasus knights in, a large group of Risen archers will be summoned to shoot them down. If this comes to pass, Phila, the knights, and Emmeryn will die-"

"We won't let that happen!" Chrom declared, pounding his fist on the table. It cracked, but nobody seemed interested in pointing that out. "Nobody has to die here. We'll get Emmeryn back and end the war."

Before anybody else could interject, I raised my voice and continued, wincing with each aching heartbeat. "But before she dies, she'll make a speech that demoralizes the Plegian troops, ultimately ending the war in a matter of months or even weeks."

Virion, Frederick, and Robin exchanged quiet glances around an equally quiet table. The sound of a distant commotion- some soldiers arguing, it sounded like- struck like knives against my ears. Frederick was the first to speak. "And why should we believe you?"

There we go- exactly what I expected. Feeling utterly spent, I took a step back and leaned heavily on my cane. "Tiki?"

Tiki let out a clipped sigh that rapidly shifted into a hiss. "Must I?" she said tiredly, resting both hands on the table, "Is it so unrealistic that an opponent that summons a Deadlord would have the ability to summon archers? Ylisse's pegasus knights are famous- or, after the Crusade, infamous. Even with archers out of the question, that Deadlord could simply impale your Exalt with a javelin, if he has returned."

Virion turned green at the thought. "I hail from Valm myself. As Tiki says, your Pegasus Knights are quite well known."

Robin frowned. "I keep hearing about this crusade, but not the details. Was it really- no, it probably was," she let out a long sigh, posture slumping. "...Andrew, I believe you. So what's next? How do we win this?"

I shook my head, heart tearing as I saw Robin draw inwards. She looked almost broken as she crumpled up her plans. "I don't know, Robin. Everything I know about the future is based on Emmeryn dying here, but quite frankly, I'd rather she live. We stand a better chance thanks to Tiki, but... things are complicated." I trailed off helplessly, shrugging.

"I find you and your circumstances suspicious, Andrew, but your words ring true," Frederick started curtly, eyes firmly on me, "Unless you have more to say, we must get to work."

That... that made sense. "And I'm a pretty awful tactician- actually, I'm not one at all. So I guess I'm dismissed?"

The silence that followed was uncomfortable. Chrom looked like he was about to breach it, but his eyes widened as he looked behind me. "Um," he said articulately, "Robin. Who did we put in charge of Nowi?"

Robin cursed loudly and unprintably, making Chrom blush and Virion fan himself dramatically. It hid his smirk well enough. "I thought that was Frederick's job, Naga damn it. Frederick, did you-"

"I thought it was your job, Robin. My apologies," Frederick said quickly, "And I may have the same substitute in mind as you."

I heard inarticulate whining behind me, accompanied by a rather unpleasant growling. "If I turn around, will I find Maribelle holding Nowi?" I asked politely, resting both hands on my cane, "And yes, I'll do the job."

Tiki nodded, eyes sparkling with an amusement that had me quite worried.

"You are _correct_ ," Maribelle spat out as I turned, her hair sticking out at odd angles, "Unfortunately so. Next time, Frederick, I will give Lissa the itching powder without question, and you will _suffer_ ," she spoke with the conviction of a prophet as she deposited a muddy Nowi in front of me, eyes promising fire and brimstone to all who opposed her.

Turning to Robin, her expression brightened considerably. "Robin?"

Robin blinked, shaking her head. "Yes, Maribelle?"

"Could you be a dear and drop by the medical tent before bed tonight? You're looking a bit gaunt today, and I need to make sure you're not suffering from exhaustion again. Have a good day," she concluded cheerfully, walking away.

Nowi waved, giving me a fanged grin as she pulled mud out of her hair. "Hi Andrew! Hello, Miss Tiki! Vaike was wrestling, but he wouldn't let me play. So I saw Lissa and asked _her_ about wrestling, and-"

Tiki raised a single, delicate eyebrow. "I wonder if I was this much of a handful at her age," she mused, putting a hand to her chin, "I never threatened to eat anyone, but I _did_ eat people."

Virion and Robin turned a bit green at that, shifting their gazes to the war table as I pat Nowi on the head. Chrom looked like he had several questions.

"I can't comment," I half-shrugged, pausing for a moment. I raised a hand, looking over my shoulder at the war table. "I'm sorry I can't help more, but-" They were already deep in thought, muttering at each other and moving little wooden blocks across a map. I shook my head, allowing a faint smile to creep across despite it all. "Nevermind. Say, Nowi, how about we get you cleaned up, then we go get lunch?"

[][][][][][][][]

Lunch had indeed been stir fry, and I left the actual 'cleaning up' of Nowi to people allowed in the women's bathing tent (Sumia had been quite gracious about it all). Not long after, the last few tents and stations were packed up, and we were on our way.

As I was injured, and thus a hazard to my allies in combat, I was relegated to somewhere near the back. Leaning back against the side of the cart, I look a deep breath in and closed my eyes. The cart clattered across a sandy road, soldiers chattered ahead and behind, and Vaike was shouting something up front. It seemed fine, though.

Fabric rustled on the other side of the cart as Tiki sat up, the cloth of a blanket wrinkling around a clenched hand. She stuck one arm out, stretching her back with a groan. "Good evening, Andrew," she muttered, adjusting her tunic.

"Sleep well?"

Nodding absently, Tiki pulled her legs up so she could sit on her calves. For a long moment, we watched the dunes and hills roll by.

Humming, Tiki smiled. "That went rather well, I think."

We both knew what she was talking about. My gut twisted, but it was weak enough to be ignored. "I was worried they'd kick me out or something. They'll probably interrogate me after this all calms down, but until then..." I shrugged. "I just feel like an idiot for being so anxious."

Resting her hands on her legs, Tiki looked off into the distance. "Feelings are not rational things, Andrew," Tiki said quietly, "And they shape our lives in ways we barely control, at times. In the end, all that matters is that one perseveres."

The load on my shoulders lightened, if just a little. "Thank you, Tiki. I really appreciate what you've done for me."

"And I for yours, my friend," she smiled lopsidedly, eyes gleaming in the Sun. "It's what friends do, right?"

Dunes slid by, shadows darkening as the day crept towards its end. It calmed me, and made what came next easier. "Guess Anna was never a friend, huh?"

The manakete's eyes flashed, teeth sharpening subtly as her nostrils flared. "You were hers."

"But she wasn't mine," I finished, throat constricting. Something wet trailed down my cheek. "Should've seen it coming. But still, she got us here, and we'll... I wonder if we'll see her again."

Tiki hummed. "I would rather like to. I thought her a woman of integrity, however faded it was. If I were to tear out her heart, no doubt, it would be a cold and withered thing."

That didn't sound hypothetical. "Maybe she was just afraid," I murmured, "She never wanted to get involved in all this."

Looking down at her hands, she clenched them into fists. "Long ago, a friend told me that ale makes the heart foolish, while gold makes the heart blind," she paused, her eyes slit but warm, "In my three thousand years, I have but one thing to add: kindness makes the heart honest."

So that was how she saw it. "They sound very wise, Tiki," I replied, looking back out over the desert, "But still. I want to hate her, but I can't."

Her eyes sparkled as she chuckled. "That is very wise of _you_ , Andrew."

We didn't speak for the rest of the evening. No words needed to be said.

[][][][][][][][]


	20. A Walking Shadow

As has been established, I am not very good at fighting. I'm better off than your average peasant, but I was more than willing to believe that Maribelle could beat me up with an umbrella. My skills lay elsewhere- I'm an actor and engineer, the latter of which I hadn't had an opportunity to utilize. Thermodynamics and manufacturing would come in handy some day, hopefully.

So, because Robin is a reasonable woman, she stuck me in back with the mages and support group. There was more to it than that, obviously, but the plan as she explained it to me was a bit complicated. It also involved the Feroxi, who I had completely forgotten about. Good thing I'm not a tactician.

:|:|:Robin:|:|:

The War Tent was not meant to hold all of the Shepherds. The Shepherds should not all _be_ here, but as Panne slipped into the tent, I realized _all of the Shepherds_ were here. Even Andrew and Nowi- the latter was sitting on the former's shoulders, waving at me enthusiastically. She was a good kid, and Andrew had done a good job of keeping her out of trouble.

The War Tent was not meant to be this quiet, either. There was a tension in the air, drawn taut like a bowstring.

"I know we're all invested in this going right," I cleared my throat loudly, raising my voice, "And I fully intend for it to go off without a hitch. As you may have heard, King Gangrel intends to execute the Exalt at Noon- and his flair for the dramatic is something we can take advantage of. The Feroxi contingent got their orders last night, and are coming in from the north with Phila's Pegasus Knights. Their job will be to engage the main army, allowing us to push in and engage Gangrel's retinue. If Gangrel starts the execution early..."

[][Andrew][]

Gangrel, it turns out, is _very loud_. We could even hear him from the rear of the Shepherd group- and we were partially hidden from his sight by the crumbling stone walls ringing the fortress. He was probably aware that we were here, just not how close we were- and frankly, he looked nuts enough not to care. The man was standing on the crumbling stone walls that ringed the courtyard, a Levin sword held in a loose one-handed grip as his absolutely ridiculous cape drifted behind him.

"Good people! Warriors of Plegia! Welcome, welcome one and all!" King Gangrel bellowed, the riblike cliff Emmeryn stood on looming tall behind him. His red eyes gleamed madly as he looked down on his retinue- and us, but from his angle we weren't particularly visible. "Your _anticipation_ is simply electrifying. I can taste it- just as I can taste the blood Ylisse has spilled on our sands," he licked his lips, and I heard Maribelle mumble something beside me.

"Mad king, they say. Mad _king_ would imply the man has some humanity left!" She huffed, brushing sand off her boots.

"Well, it could be an act. I've seen some pretty sane actors play even crazier characters than this guy," I shrugged, "No argument on the humanity bit, though. Dude's a monster."

Maribelle gave me an odd glare. "If you start acting like that, I will strap you to a bed."

"Fair enough."

"We alllll remember the crimes of Ylisse, don't we?" Gangrel said, gesturing behind him. A soldier stepped up behind Emmeryn, hefting an axe. "What do you say we have this witch answer for them? Here! Today, and _now_!"

"Yup," I nodded, "He's starting early."

:|:|:Robin:|:|:

"...Flavia's contingent should be close to the executioner's overlook at that point, unless Plegia's soldiers are more resilient than usual. She'll be able to hit the executioner, or at least stall out the execution," I continued, tapping my finger on the map. If they weren't close enough, we had other solutions, but our group only needed to know the gist.

Vaike leaned in, frowned, and then counted something on his fingers. "That's a good arm she's got on her," he concluded, "But what about us, Robin?"

"We're going to secure the courtyard, of course. This won't be easy- we have Gangrel's retinue and whatever soldiers he has on hand to push through, including a handful of dark mages. Vaike, you, Sully, Stahl, Panne, and Nowi will actually be swinging around the side with a flanking group, but we'll get to _why_ later," I added, raising a hand as the question formed on his lips. "The main formation- that's pretty much everyone else, with exceptions for healers, archers, mages, and Andrew-"

"Hey Nowi, looks like I'm special!" Andrew whispered. Nowi giggled, patting Andrew on the head.

I glared at them, and they didn't look the least bit apologetic. "As I was saying, the main formation's going to engage Gangrel's retinue the _moment_ Emmeryn is not at imminent risk of execution. Chrom will call the charge, but I'll be there too."

[][Andrew][]

Moments of monologuing later, the would-be executioner was knocked off the ledge by a well-placed throwing axe. I had to wonder how many of those Flavia had on her, given they had durability in-game. Not very relevant, though. She had impressive aim, in any case.

"Take out their soldiers first!" Chrom intoned, his voice carrying cleanly across the Shepherds and soldiers. "Gangrel can wait."

"Oh I _do_ so hate waiting," Gangrel roared back, his words dripping with rich, honeyed bloodlust, "Let's spoil my surprise! Kill the little Prince, kill his men, kill his sister, and kill anyone else you see too. Kill them all!" He cackled madly, flipping backwards off the battlements.

"Oh he is _nuts_ ," I agreed, crossing my arms, cane held in one hand, "Backflipping with a cape is a terrible idea."

"Andrew," Maribelle sighed, striding forwards as our group started to move, "There are better ways to handle your nerves."

I could hear my heartbeat roaring in my ears, and my stomach was a roiling mess of knotting fear and anxiety. "My nerves are quite fine and handled," I lied, wincing as my voice cracked, "Perfectly fine!"

A dainty hand patted my arm, squeezing it for a second. Lissa stepped past me, flashing a warm smile even as the bags under her eyes darkened. "You don't have to be fine, you know!" she said kindly, spinning around to face me as she walked backwards, "You'll get through it."

I had a strong urge to hug her. Limping forwards, cane in hand, I smiled back. "We'll get through it," I agreed, "It'll be over soon."

And with that, the battle was joined. The Shepherds rumbled forwards, streaming around obstructions and dunes as they engaged the Plegian soldiers. Steel clashed with steel, magic crackled and burned across the battlefield. Blood soaked into the sands as death made itself known.

We- the 'support group'- watched from behind, advancing as the front line of the Shepherds pushed further forward. The mages, led by Miriel and coordinated in part by Ricken, unleashed sparse waves of fire, wind, and lightning at their backlines. The rest of their time was spent trying to snipe plegian spells- matching their magical might in midair, cancelling them out completely. Miriel's hasty explanation of this had left me with a headache, so all I really knew was that it looked cool.

All the while, Virion and his contingent of archers were picking off stragglers, favoring accuracy and lethality over speed. It was working out quite well- though my stomach churned at some of the nastier hits.

The Plegians were good, but not good enough. The Shepherds forced them back, step by step, dealing death and receiving bruises. Before long, I was stepping around bodies just to move forward. Most were plegian- but some were our own soldiers, dead or dying. The healers, led by Lissa and Maribelle, took a little time to staunch wounds before moving on themselves.

So one might wonder why I was back there- other than being a hazard to my allies in battle. I wondered as well, given they sent Nowi off to flank without me.

Lissa screamed.

:|:|:Robin:|:|:

I turned to look at Andrew, meeting his eyes. "Andrew, for this part of the battle, I'm asking you _not_ to work with the mages. You'll be on watch for fake casualties, along with a few disguised soldiers."

He looked at me strangely. "Why me, and why not someone more competent?"

A valid question, if self-deprecating. I couldn't spend too much time on this. "We can't spare many able-bodied soldiers, and Miriel says you're actually a decently fast caster," I explained quickly, "Moving on..."

[][Andrew][]

No more running away. Not this time- not when it's so much easier to do the right thing.

Before I really knew what was happening, I had my Wind Tome in hand and a painful amount of mana dumping into it. Concentrate, concentrate, breathe in, and shape the spell.

Lissa staggered backwards, just barely keeping her balance as a 'dead' soldier lurched off the ground. Blood oozed down his sword, dripping off his hand. "Idiots," he croaked, lifting his blade to strike, "Should've-"

A wobbly blade of wind slammed into his chest, nearly tipping him over. Before he could speak again, a 'healer' sidled up and stabbed him through a chink in the armor.

Putting a hand to her chest, Lissa let out a tense breath as Maribelle hurried towards her. "Jeez. That got my heart going, didn't it?" She chuckled, not sounding particularly genuine. "Thanks, Andrew. Thanks, Clove."

The soldier flushed, nodding. "Y-you're welcome, Princess. I-I didn't know you remembered me."

That same soldier received a light bonk on the head from Maribelle's umbrella as we resumed our march forwards. "And _I_ remember you quite well, perhaps better than I would like. If you cannot eat shellfish, _stop eating shellfish_ , you buffoon."

"But it's so tasty..." he muttered, cringing under Maribelle's intensifying gaze, "Of course, Lady Maribelle, no more shellfish," he agreed hastily, practically running away.

It was around then that my heartbeat calmed enough for me to look away from the body. "Hopefully we won't have too much of that," I said, struggling to keep my voice level, "We're flying a bit too close to the sun already."

Lissa frowned, waving off a worrying Maribelle as she looked at me. "Andrew, did you get heat stroke? We're on the ground."

My chuckle felt good, even if it hurt a little. I shook my head. "It's a figure of speech, referencing a myth from my, uh, homeland. A man with wings of wax flew a 'too close to the sun,' so his wings melted off and he fell to his death. Bit morbid, but it's a good phrase," I explained, stepping around another body. Dead for sure, and not one of ours.

"Huh," Lissa mused, bouncing forward, "I like it, even if it is a little dark!"

She took that easily. I was fully prepared for an interrogation later, after the rescue of Emmeryn. We crested another dune, giving me a brief moment where I could survey the battlefield. The Feroxi were doing quite well against the main army- they were less than a hundred meters away, at this point.

Oh, and there was Libra, delivering axe-shaped judgement into someone's face. I'll spare the gory details.

Crap. I didn't tell them about Libra and Tharja.

Seems to be working out well enough, though. I could see some dark magic- black flame, purplish light, the works- coming from _our_ side of the field, so Tharja was in there somewhere. That could have gone _very_ poorly. Or not. Chrom is quite friendly.

I was getting distracted again. Shaking my head, I steadied myself and marched onwards. My crippled leg ached, but that was to be expected. If my game knowledge was to be trusted, Chrom and Gangrel would be having their 'negotiation' soon. And, if Robin's suspicions were to be trusted- and of course I trusted them- I needed to turn around.

Wyverns roared, and against all common sense, I didn't fire a Wind spell at them. I didn't know how many I had left in me, and I needed to be on hand for... later.

:|:|:Robin:|:|:

Leaning over the table, I tapped a point west of our entry location. "We know for a fact that Gangrel has Wyvern Riders available to him. Once we get boxed in- or once it _looks_ like we're boxed in, I have no doubt we'll see some coming in from behind. Virion, you'll help bait them out with the usual tactic-"

"We'll pretend to be low on arrows, as usual," Virion nodded, smirking faintly, "It is as good a time as any to work on my aim."

[][Andrew][]

Those poor, poor wyverns. We didn't have many archers, but once they started firing as quickly as possible, they went down uncomfortably quickly. One after another, five wyverns and their riders came crashing down to the ground- tossed to the winds of the mages and riddled with arrows.

"That was... underwhelming," Maribelle muttered, turning back around, "It bodes well for our future."

Wyverns didn't look much like dragons. Only a passing resemblance; enough for me to envision how easily Nowi could be picked out of the sky. My heart ached, but I pushed the feelings away. We had work to do.

:|:|:Robin:|:|:

"Now, we received some key information yesterday- and, as you may know by now, there is a Deadlord on the loose. To briefly address both topics," I took a breath, looking back at Chrom. Yet another way I was putting my closest friend at risk. Raising a hand to stall any questions, I continued, "A Deadlord is a powerful Risen that is almost entirely beyond our ability to fight. If you see a Risen with burnt hands that uses dark magic and a sword, _run_. Find Chrom and Tiki as quickly as possible."

Lon'qu raised an eyebrow from his corner of the tent- far away from me and all other women. He might be fast enough to keep up. Amending my plans, I sighed.

"Lon'qu, you'll be on hand for dealing with him as well," I added, drumming my fingers on the table, "But we don't know if that Deadlord will actually show up. The more important matter is the new intel. It is _possible_ that Gangrel's mages are capable of summoning Risen. Our primary concern is that he'll have Risen archers to shoot down our Pegasus Knights- as such, all pegasus knights will be grounded until my signal. That signal will be weak Fire spell, cast upwards. Chrom?"

Chrom nodded, stepping forward and giving me a moment to catch my breath. Gods, this was exhausting.

"Without all of you, we wouldn't be able to pull this off," Chrom praised them, "And I ask that you all trust me for this next part. When we secure the courtyard, I'm going to demand Emmeryn's release. If Gangrel declines-"

[][Andrew][]

The main line of the retinue collapsed, and the battle ended with surrender from the small company of soldiers remaining. They held minimal loyalty to Gangrel, it seemed. As we approached the courtyard, Robin fired a burst of ruddy flame into the air.

At this point, we could _see_ the Mad King being Mad. He was out of reach, unfortunately; standing on a balcony within the massive courtyard.

The 'courtyard' in game hadn't made much sense. It made a bit more sense now that I was standing here; this space looked like it would serve as something of a market, a nexus for trade. Right now, though, it just held us, Gangrel, and Aversa.

I was more concerned about Aversa, who lurked in the shadows behind her king. Her brown-red eyes locked with mine, and she offered a sanguine grin.

I shuddered in response. Leaning to the side, I whispered, "Can you _believe_ that woman's outfit? I've heard of deep collars, but that-"

"Now is not the time," Maribelle hissed back, thumping me on the arm with her umbrella.

The knot in my gut tightened. "Sorry," I mumbled.

Practically frothing at the mouth, Gangrel pointed at Chrom. "Oh, I will _enjoy_ killing you, little Prince. Stand down, or your sister will take a dive!"

"King Gangrel!" Chrom began, his voice booming across the sandy stone, "Return my sister and surrender. We've won."

Gangrel looked around, eyes twitching as he toyed with the jagged sword in his hand. "Won? _Won?_ Absolutely not!" He chattered, "Where are my Wyverns?"

:|:|:Robin:|:|:

Frederick snorted. " _When_ he declines, milord."

" _If_ Gangrel refuses to release my sister," Chrom continued, "We'll start with the old plan: deploying the pegasus knights."

Leave it to our Prince to say things the wrong way for the right reasons. Andrew frowned, but he was actually one of the few to remain silent. Most of the Shepherds asked their questions all at once- they trusted me, but Chrom's statement sounded insane. The noise was nearly suffocating, and I pulled my coat tighter around myself.

Lady Tiki snorted, sending bluish-white embers out of her nostrils. Gaius and Virion, standing closest, shuffled away. Slamming her hands on the table, she cleared her throat. "There is more," she intoned, voice filling the air, "Do elaborate."

That bought us a moment of dead silence. "That came out wrong," Chrom admitted, rubbing the back of his head with one hand, "Robin made it sound so smart..."

I blushed. "I can take this, you know," I murmured, "It's my plan, after all."

Shaking his head, Chrom scanned the room. "The only way to bait out their Risen is to give Gangrel what he wants- but on _our_ terms. Robin will fire the signal, and Phila will fly in. If they have Risen, that's when they'll be summoned. Phila and the Knights have been given orders to fly in evasive formation, and they'll scatter the moment the Risen arrive. I thought this next part was pretty clever," he paused, gesturing to Frederick and then to me, "And without Frederick and Robin, we wouldn't have even thought of it. Once the second signal is fired-"

[][Andrew][]

"Your Wyverns are dead," Chrom replied, looking straight at Gangrel, "And we've already won." He turned, nodding to Robin.

Robin shot up a second burst of flame. Ten pegasi dove in over the wall bare moments later, carrying ten pegasus knights. The lead- Phila, I assumed, started flying towards Emmeryn.

Gangrel sputtered. "Pegasus knights? How did you... ugh. That- you! You don't play fair at all, do you?"

Aversa nodded, strutting forwards and tossing her long white hair over her shoulders. "Neither do I," she said smoothly, lifting up a strange wooden box. Purple fog sloughed out from the top, fading into nothing.

For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Gangrel looked like he was about to stab Aversa. Turning on my heel, facing the main company of mages, I readied my Wind Tome for the next stage of the plan.

A purple miasma oozed from the sands and stone, swirling in unearthly patterns as it darkened. Groans started to echo from within, and before long, a full compliment of Risen archers had formed, bows already drawn.

"Now!" Miriel barked, voice somber and sharp. All of us unleashed our Wind spells, splitting between the handful in the courtyard and the much larger number outside of it. At the same time, the Pegasus Knights scattered, flying off in different directions as a few loose arrows whizzed past them.

The gouts of tumbling Wind went right over the archer's heads.

We weren't aiming for _them_ , after all.

A lethal wall of arrows, soaring upwards, were swept out of the sky by our combined efforts. Not a moment later, a giant rabbit and a dragon crashed into the archers with the subtlety of a gunshot in a library. Sully, Stahl, and Vaike joined them shortly after, managing to be even _less_ subtle. I grinned. We were doing it. _We were going to save Emmeryn_.

I could _feel_ Robin's joy from here. My heart felt a bit lighter, and the ache in my leg wasn't so bad after all.

:|:|:Robin:|:|:

Chrom stepped back, patting me on the shoulder. "How'd I do? I'm not the best with this tactical stuff, but I think I'm getting the hang of explaining plans."

"You did great!" I assured him cheerfully. My excitement was starting to bubble. I could practically _taste_ our victory, right from the start. Turning to face the Shepherds, I spread my hands. "That's pretty much it. Once the Risen are dealt with, our Pegasus Knights will come back in and rescue the Exalt. At that point, we'll disengage, retreating with the Feroxi through Midmire- and the next time we're here, it'll be to end the war."

Cheering filled the tent.

I'd done it.

[][Andrew][]

Gangrel bounced forwards, cuffing Aversa on the shoulder as Emmeryn clambered onto Phila's pegasus. He said something I couldn't hear, and as we started to disengage, I didn't much care.

Aversa's wavering grin sent chills down my spine, even as she rubbed her shoulder. I couldn't quite hear what she said either, but her hesitant expression was part worrying, part thrilling.

And then his hands were on her throat. "A witch will die today, Aversa," Gangrel screamed, slamming her against the balcony. I winced sympathetically. "If not her, it will be _you_."

There was a pause. "Robin," I said loudly, "We need to get out of here, but- um." I paused. Aversa was recruitable in game at a later point, but I never much liked her. Should I even speak up about it?

Robin looked at me, just barely visible through the crowd of soldiers and Shepherds. Once she was certain I saw her, she rolled her eyes. Fair, I suppose. That was the plan all along. I turned, looking away from Gangrel and Aversa as we started to leave. Phila had just gotten Emmeryn on board, too. What more could they...

Something _inhuman_ screamed, shattering the air and nearly driving me to my knees. Right on its tail was a symphony of tearing flesh and far more _human_ screaming. My heart froze, aching in my chest and turning my legs to jelly. I just barely managed to stay standing as I turned around, looking back into the courtyard.

If I hadn't been too nervous to eat that morning, I would have vomited on the spot.

A single pegasus wing lay on the ground, oozing crimson into the stones. I could barely force myself to look upwards.

A looming, patchwork-armored figure stood where Emmeryn had moments before, their massive and pitted metal blade held loosely in one hand. A cracked, silvery mask oozed reddish light onto-

Onto Emmeryn, held against the Deadlord's armor with a rusted blade at her throat.

" _You know,_ " it drawled, sandy voice tearing at my thoughts, " _I'm kind of upset that pegasus didn't fall straight down. Not every day you get to crush someone's hopes using a horse._ "

I wanted to run. I needed to run, but I couldn't. Robin's face was paler than ever, and for the first time since the beginning of the battle, I could see Tiki. Her lips were curled into a fanged snarl, fingers twitching around an axe.

" _Oh, Andrew's here too! I remember you._ "

Not again, not again, not again, _please_ not again.

" _So, what're your orders, servant of Grima?_ " Drych cackled, his voice hounding my every step, " _Don't worry, I'll get my best dead men on this._ "

Gangrel patted Aversa in the head, dodging her swipe as he grinned. "Well, well, _well_ , little prince," he crooned, practically dancing as Chrom glared at him, "It looks like we're at an impasse once again. I'll spare you the _usual_ dramatics-"

" _You don't have a normal, undramatic bone in your body,_ " Drych laughed, tightening his grip on Emmeryn. " _I'd like to break every. Single. One of them. Pity I'm on your side today_."

Through it all, Emmeryn didn't look the least bit afraid. I admired her, and... my heart sunk. I wouldn't get to speak with her, would I?

"I see why this was a last resort," Gangrel huffed, crossing his arms, "Now, little prince, the deal is simple. Hand over the Emblem, lay down your pretty little toothpick, and you'll get your sister back."

Aversa, massaging her throat, said nothing. She glowered pretty intensely at Gangrel, though, so it seemed we were all in agreement on _one_ thing.

Chrom opened his mouth, then closed it again. "I-"

"Plegians!" Emmeryn declared, will unbroken and spirit unbowed, "I ask that you hear the truth of my words."

No, please no. This is too _fast_. Maybe there's some way we can-

Tiki put a hand on my shoulder, squeezing it. I looked at her, then behind us. Soldiers of Plegia, who'd started closing in once they heard the scream. "I-I'm sorry," I whispered, "This is my fault." It had to be my fault. I was the change, I was the butterfly effect. If it wasn't my fault, then how much control did I really have?

She shook her head, but said nothing. Nothing needed to be said.

"Stop her, you imbecile! Aversa, tell the Deadlord to shut her up," Gangrel barked, spinning around to face Aversa again.

Aversa slapped Gangrel across the mouth and stormed away. I had mixed, but mostly negative, feelings about all of that.

Drych just shrugged.

"Wars," Emmeryn said slowly, the whole world churning to a stop around her, "Will win you nothing but _sadness_ and _pain_ ; both inside your borders and out." Her voice wavered, each word a hammer blow to my heart. My face felt wet- when had I fallen to my knees?

"Emm. No, please don't do this," Chrom whispered hoarsely, the Falchion loose in his hands.

"Please. Free yourselves from this hatred! From this cycle of pain and vengeance. Do what you must..." she trailed off, tilting her head up to look at her captor. She said something quietly to him.

My heart froze when he nodded, lifting his sword away and releasing his grip.

"As I will do. See now that one selfless act has the power to change the world!" Emmeryn declared, her voice commanding the world to silence.

She took a step forward.

"Emm, no! No!" Chrom shouted, sprinting forwards, hand outstretched.

And she fell, a trail of glittering tears in her wake.

[][][][][][][][]


	21. Tough Crowds

I couldn't watch.

It would not break me, it would not drive me mad. Nothing in my heart begged me to watch- and I chose not to.

 _Of course_ , something dark murmured, _Keep running away from your feelings_.

"Damn you, Gangrel!" Chrom roared, his voice a dull throb against my ears. I forced myself to turn around, training my eyes upwards to Gangrel as I took a few careful steps back.

Tiki was no longer by my side, but I could see her green hair near the front of the formation. Her eyes were fixed on Drych. In the corner of my eye, I saw Frederick make his way towards Chrom. I couldn't see her, but I could _hear_ Lissa sobbing, accompanied by the soft murmurs of a man whose voice I didn't immediately recognize.

"How disgustingly _noble_ ," Gangrel dripped, "Deadlord, get rid of the rabble in my courtyard."

My stomach knotted as I dragged my gaze further up, to Drych. He looked back, red eyes staining his silvery mask crimson. Even without seeing his mouth, I could tell he was grinning. I'd be the first to go, no doubt.

" _Hmmm_ ," he drawled, lazily tilting his head to avoid an arrow, " _Let me think about it._ "

"Gods, no..." Robin murmured hoarsely. When had she gotten here? No- when had _I_ gotten there? Robin hadn't moved an inch. Hesitantly, I placed a hand on her shoulder. Who it was comforting, I didn't know.

I looked around again, collecting my thoughts. Right, the Shepherds were forming up around Chrom and Lissa. I was supposed to be somewhere. Somewhere I wouldn't be a hazard to combat, probably. I sidled out of Libra's way- I had not spoken to the man, but the anger that radiated off him said now was not the time.

"Don't _think_ about it!" Gangrel snapped, eyes wild as he leaned forward to grip the railing, "You don't do thinking. _I_ am the thinker here, and I think you should kill them all!"

" _I'm contemplating regicide, Gangrel, and you're the only king around,_ " Drych rumbled hoarsely, gesturing broadly towards us. " _These runts? Not worth my time. Well,_ " he corrected himself, " _There are a few loose ends I'd like to tie up, but the rest of you can entertain yourselves with my honor guard._ "

He raised a blackened hand, purplish fog oozing out down through his fingers. He tossed it aside with a lazy flick of the wrist, lobbing a blob of the stuff down at the ground. As his hand snapped back, a javelin appeared in it- so that was where he'd gotten them. Seemed like a neat trick.

Winding his arm back, Drych chuckled. " _See ya_ , _kid_."

Not a heartbeat later, pain bloomed in my chest, and then-

[][][][][][][][]

My eyes snapped open, body tensing as I prepared for a pain that never came. One knee jerked upwards, slamming into the bottom of a wooden table as my hands sunk into a plush cushion. Biting back a few choice curses, I rapidly tried to collect my thoughts and take in my surroundings.

Jasmine and woodsmoke drifted faintly on the air, acrid but comforting. Bookshelves lined the walls of the red-carpeted room, stuffed to the brim with knicknacks, scrolls, and tattered volumes of every shape, size, and color. A large, cluttered desk was pushed up against one wall, covered in scraps of paper and metal in direct contrast to the neatly organized tools hanging from said wall. And, for some reason, a fireplace full of rocks that nonetheless contained a merrily crackling fire.

A little closer to me, a tall woman in a rather snug dress regarded me as one would regard an unexpected painting in a familiar art gallery. Her green hair drifted impossibly, fading to fiery nothingness at the fringes. Her features were elfin; soft-angled, slim, and supernaturally beautiful. She took a sip from a plain teacup, smiling faintly.

I wasn't really sure what to make of it. Then again, I couldn't quite remember what I'd been doing before I got here. It felt important, though.

"Tea?" a rich, motherly voice offered, "The lost dreamers oft find it to be a comfort."

Frowning, I looked down at the plain, empty teacup in front of me. "Sure."

Quite promptly, two pale (familiar?) hands entered my vision carrying an equally plain teapot. Steam, curling and serpentine, wafted upwards from the cup as tea was poured. Taking a deep breath in, I hummed. "Jasmine, huh. Haven't had that in a while."

"Ah," a woman mused, "I have never had it before, myself."

"Pardon?" I blinked, looking at her own half-full teacup. "Didn't you just drink some?"

The woman smiled serenely, green eyes strangely familiar in their glittering. "I did, indeed, drink tea. But it is now jasmine, and I have not had jasmine tea," she explained patiently, "Thank you for delivering such an unexpected gift."

"I see, said the blind man," I muttered, coughing into my fist, "Speaking of, where are we? And more importantly, how did I get here?"

She took a long sip of tea, and I took a moment to do the same. Subtly sweet, incredibly fragrant, and even better than I remembered. Warmth rolled across my body with each sip, easing tensed muscles and unknotting strange feelings.

"In regards to both of your questions, Outlander, you are here because you are dying," she said politely, expression unwavering.

I nearly spat out my tea. "Gods! You can't just drop that on someone! Um, with all due respect," I added hastily, "I mean, I suppose I should have known, but..." I trailed off.

Two memories surfaced; one painful, the other distant. I didn't want to think about the first one. "You're Naga, aren't you? I've seen you before."

"A rare claim," she mused, drumming her fingers on the table between us, "But no stranger than yourself. This-"

"Are you, um," I paused, working my jaw, "Calling me weird? Wait, that's not important," shaking my head, I wondered at my own serenity. "Naga, I just died. I'm dead. I should be more worried about this! I mean, I probably deserved it for screwing up so badly, but I'd hoped to at least see this through to the end."

Raising a delicate eyebrow, she took another sip of jasmine tea.

Blushing, I looked away. "Sorry for interrupting. I'm working on that." I'd have plenty of time while dead, after all. Tiki and the future kids could handle it from here.

"If I might continue?" she glanced at me, nodding, "This is not a permanent development, Outlander."

"Oh. Can I just... go, then?" That sounded too easy. If it was that simple, then we could just bring Emmeryn back from the dead.

"I would prefer if you waited until I have finished my tea," Naga hummed to herself, "Jasmine is quite pleasant."

I sat there in silence, drinking jasmine tea with the Divine Dragon. Countless questions whirled about, crashing into each other and shattering into meaninglessness.

"Why not bring back Emmeryn, then?" I eventually blurted, "She's got your brand, she's important to a lot of people, and," my voice cracked, wavering with my heart, "She deserves it more than I do." Some random actor didn't deserve to get a second chance, as much as I might want it. I'd just waste it getting betrayed by Anna again, or something.

"You presume I control this process," Naga remarked, setting down her empty cup, "Or that it is truly a second chance. You will live, Outlander; you will dream of this place, so long as the door remains open."

So I'd beaten myself up over nothing, great. I wasn't even sure I'd be willing to give up a second chance if I got it- I was every bit the runaway coward Drych accused me of being. Instead of letting myself walk that path, I slowly sipped at my jasmine tea. It helped, though the knotted feelings in my gut remained.

"You are troubled," Naga challenged, setting down her teacup with a _tink_ , resting her hands on the table.

No, not here. I could deal with this, same as everything else. Schooling my expression, I offered her a sad smile. "Not really. What should I call you, by the way?"

Pouring herself a new cup of tea, she shook her head. "Address me by name, Outlander- I am Naga," pausing, she drew deeply from the jasmine steam.

"Naga, then," I agreed, rolling the word around in my mouth, "It's an honor to meet you, Naga. Big fan of, uh, your work, with the Falchion and all that. My name is Andrew, by the way."

Taking a sip from her new cup of tea, Naga closed her eyes. "So, then, why are you troubled?"

Biting back a curse, I sighed. "To be frank, Naga, I wasn't expecting to get a therapy visit while I'm dying," I hedged, "Could I have another cup of tea, please? I'm going to need it for this."

"But of course," she agreed readily, reaching over to pour me a cup.

Watching the Divine Dragon pour me tea, I bit my lip. "I-" No. That wasn't the right way to put it. "It's-"

"Drink. Resolve to speak, close your eyes, and speak when the tea has warmed your belly."

I did just that, allowing the sweet tea to warm my body as it travelled. Closing my eyes, I leaned back. "Emmeryn just died, Naga. It's my fault."

"Again," she instructed curtly. Though I could not see her, I could hear her drumming her fingers on the table.

Now I'd made her impatient, or upset. Perfect. I took another sip of tea, repeating the whole process as I eased a bit more stress from my body. "Emmeryn is dead. It's my fault for not doing enough, not trying to convince Robin the moment we-"

"Again."

Another sip, another breath, and I sank into my seat. "Emmeryn died and I couldn't stop it, Naga. If-" I paused, sipping tea as I opened my eyes. Naga was looking off into the distance, eyes twinkling like emerald stars. "I couldn't stop Anna from running, and I couldn't stop Emmeryn from dying. It's like I have no control, and... it's easy to just let things happen, you know?"

The words were just pouring out now, pouring out to a random (divine) stranger. "Your daughter has been a fantastic friend, by the way. I don't deserve any of this."

Regarding me with ancient, impenetrable eyes, Naga tilted her head. "Have you spoken true, and shown only your honest heart?"

"I suppose," I said carefully, "But-"

"Do your friends see value in your word?"

"Well, I don't have many," I mused, "Nowi, Tiki, and Sumia have been nice so far, but Anna... well." I offered her a weak smile.

"Then you are deserving," Naga concluded, pausing to sip her tea, "Jasmine was an excellent choice, though not made wakefully."

Drinking in her words as I did the tea, I felt a forgotten tension slough from my shoulders. It had been a revealing conversation- exactly what I needed to hear, I suspected. Thoughts bubbled up, merging and lightening until a bark of laughter escaped my lips. "I was going to ask why nobody's put it that way before, you know," I chuckled, rubbing the back of my head, "But that's a silly question. I wouldn't have needed it if someone had said it earlier."

Blinking slowly, Naga furrowed her brow, still managing to seem serene. "That fails to answer your own question."

I shrugged. "Makes sense to me," I offered lamely, gesturing broadly to the room, "I mean, I don't understand this at all, so it balances out."

"I see," Naga hummed, turning her head to one side, "Ah. You are being called. Do you mind if I keep the tea?"

Now it was my turn to be baffled again. "Uh, sure?" I paused for a second. "Wait, you said I brought the tea. Am I just here because you wanted new tea?"

The Divine Dragon's lips twisted into a strange smile. "Perhaps."

[][][][][][][][]

When I opened my eyes, it felt like Vaike had punched me in the gut. Repeatedly. "Ahh, crud," I sputtered, squinting into the evening light, "I want my tea back."

"How are you _awake_ so soon?" Lissa said shrilly, "Mari, I can't even feel him. How is he awake?"

"Focus, dear. His magic is just a bit off-color," Maribelle groaned, also out of sight, "He clearly isn't awake. Just having an odd dream."

Frowning, I wiggled my crippled leg. It felt a bit better, which was a plus. I did realize I couldn't see...well, anything. Bit blurry. "Nope, I'm awake. What'd I miss?"

"You missed _dying_!" The yellow and brown blob (Lissa, presumably) replied, voice cracking, "You were _stuck on a javelin!_ And Tiki had to- oh, ew. I think I threw up a few times."

"Nothing important, then," I shrugged, furrowing my brow to try and figure out what was above me, "Where are we? Midmire?"

I heard Maribelle snort as something ached near my stomach. "Not quite. The Plegians have a blockade in place, and we're stopped until Robin works out how to deal with it."

Distantly, I remembered playing through the battle at Midmire. Several times, because there was this one axe guy who kept critting Chrom first turn and just making everything suck. Never figured out why there were big ribs out there, given Grima's skull was all the way back in the capital. Unless he really _was_ that big? That seemed absurd. Shaking my head gently, as to not move the rest of my body, I sighed. "And, um, how are things? You know, in general?"

Lissa's sniff made me regret my question. Familiar forlorn sadness leaked from her presence as she drew in a hitched breath. "W-we're doing alright, Andrew. We'll be... fine."

It wasn't hard to remember how I felt after my grandfather died. That sort of thing doesn't stop hurting; it just gets easier to bear. "Don't-" my voice caught in my throat. Those words wouldn't help her now.

"You have your friends," I offered, "They'll listen."

Maribelle huffed, and the pain abated slightly. "Dear, I'm done over here. You can end the stabilizing heal. Andrew, while your advice is appreciated, it is quite unsettling to see someone whose state was recently quite dire offering life advice."

Oh, right. "Do I want to know what that state is or was?" I asked hesitantly, stomach twisting, "I probably don't, do I?"

Maribelle sighed, and I could feel the rhythmic drumming of fingers on the side of my cot. "No, Andrew, you do not. I would rather not know, but I did not precisely have a choice," she explained patiently, "To put it delicately, I am impressed with your ability to not die."

Pausing for a moment, a terrible thought occurred. The sort that would inflict comedic pain on all who heard it, and as laughter tried to force its way out, I coughed heartily. "Well," I coughed, wincing with every tremor, "I can't offer life advice, you say. Maybe that's because I'm better at death advice?"

That earned me a thwack on the forehead as Maribelle sputtered. I think I heard Lissa giggle, which was a dumb victory I took with pride. "Don't strain yourself," Maribelle eventually admonished, "Healing you was quite the ordeal, and I'd rather not do it again."

A needling pain worked its way up from my stomach. Grimacing, I let out a long hiss. "Great. How long am I out of commission for, then?" Naga's kind words aside, being even more of a deadweight didn't sit well with me.

The blurry world around me started to resolve into actual images. A blonde and yellow blob turned into Lissa, who was flitting to and fro between the cots in the hastily set-up medical tent. We'd been here long enough for the tent to happen, but I couldn't guess how long that _was_. Maribelle- a former pink and blonde blob- tossed her somewhat frayed coifs of hair over her shoulder. "We had to use up a rather _pricey_ Recover once-" she inhaled sharply, shaking her head. "Suffice to say, you'll be no worse off by sunrise tomorrow. Just don't do it again."

Letting out a breath I didn't know I was holding, I turned my head so I could see more of Maribelle. "I owe you- I owe everyone here- way too much," I mused, gesturing outwards with one hand, "I have no idea how I'll ever make it up."

Maribelle turned towards me, resting her chin on her arm as she slumped backwards in her chair. "It is merely the right thing to do," she said flatly, "Any less, and I would be demeaning my station."

Lissa appeared a heartbeat later, leaning against Maribelle's head and back as she dangled her arms. "Aww, thank you," Lissa cooed, blue eyes sparkling, "I'll definitely be taking you up on that. What's your opinion on frogs?"

Ignoring Maribelle's slowly reddening face, I shrugged, craning my neck. "As long as they aren't in my boots, frogs are fine," I replied easily, offering a grin, "Can I sit up, or...?"

"Dear," Maribelle muttered, not offering much resistance, "Don't encourage him."

"Sit up, sit up," Lissa continued, gesturing at me with a circular motion. Her expression drooped, turning into a pout as she crossed her arms on top of Maribelle's head. "Aww, you're _boring_. Why does Nowi say you're fun?"

"Oh, gods, not Nowi again," Maribelle sighed, "Dear-"

"Let me restate that," I interrupted, doing my best to look apologetic as I pushed myself up onto my elbows, "As long as they aren't in _my_ boots, frogs are fine," I repeated, smirking at the gleam in Lissa's eyes.

"You're asking for protection, huh?" Lissa grinned slyly, leaning further into Maribelle, "I'm sure we can-"

" _Dear_ ," Maribelle said loudly, turning a particularly interesting shade of red, "Save your mischief-making for a later, and _safer_ , time. There is work to be done, and none of it involves you doing- doing what you're doing right now!"

And that, unfortunately, was that. Lissa offered me a quick 'we'll talk later,' and Maribelle had to move on to other patients. That left me to stew in my thoughts, dredging up aging memories of Awakening to see what I could offer in the future.

My thoughts were scattered to the four winds by a green and pink blur- stopping just short of throwing itself across my chest.

"Andrew!" A familiar, childish voice cheered, presumably coming from the blur. "You're okay! I knew you were going to be okay," the blob continued authoritatively, resolving itself into Nowi wearing a pink sundress.

Scooching myself further up, I reached over to pat Nowi on the head. "Hey, Nowi," I smiled, "Thanks for the vote of confidence. Still haven't seen the damage yet, but I made it out more than okay."

Sticking out her tongue, Nowi snorted. "Blegh. It was icky, but Tiki made it better. I want to be big and strong like her some day!" Bringing her arms up, Nowi flexed- and to my surprise, there was actually some muscle there. More than me, possibly, but not by much.

"I'm sure you will," I agreed, silently resolving to start exercising as I kept patting her on the head, "You're already way tougher than I am, and I'm sure Tiki can give you some pointers."

Humming, Nowi closed her eyes. "Mhmm," she agreed, nodding slightly as she swung her arms, "I like being scary. Rawr!" she giggled, opening her eyes and baring her teeth.

Feeling someone's gaze burning into me, I caught Maribelle's expression. Right, Nowi and the medical tent weren't supposed to go together. "Scary," I nodded, jerking my chin towards the front of the tent, "But only scary for bad guys, right?"

Maribelle frowned, furrowing her brow. She stuck out an arm, catching Lissa before she fell, and hesitantly shook her head. As expected, unfortunately.

"Sometimes good guys get scared too, but I don't eat them," Nowi said sagely, "I don't even squish them. And Tiki says I can't mud wrestle them as a dragon, because I'd squish them or eat them on accident."

Raising an eyebrow as I looked back at Nowi, I shrugged. "Seems reasonable enough to me. Have you been mud wrestling them as a person, then?" The mental image of Nowi suplexing Vaike was enough to make burst out in laughter- and if my chest didn't get very upset when I laughed, I would have.

I winced as Nowi's expression soured, and winced at _Maribelle's_ expression when Nowi took a seat on the side of my cot. "Nobody wants to fight a _kid_ ," Nowi grumbled, kicking her legs and playing with a long strand of green-yellow hair, "I'm older than everyone there put together! Except Tiki, and maybe Robin."

"Robin?" I questioned, distantly recalling how Tiki had sensed Robin's power in the game. "What makes you say that?"

Nowi tilted her head, shrugging. "She smells old," she explained.

Well, Grima is pretty old. "Huh," I paused, frowning, "Not actually sure how old she is, but I think she's younger than I am. Lissa, how old is Robin?"

Lissa, who was zooming past, came to a full stop. "She's, um, maybe twenty? We don't know what year she was born, but she was pretty sure that she was twenty," she frowned, tapping her chin and resting her other hand on her hip. "How old are you?"

"Never ask a lady her age, even indirectly," Maribelle muttered, tapping a reclining soldier on the nose with her umbrella, "And hand over the snacks. I can smell them."

Lissa's eyes sparkled as she leaned in, hiding her mouth from Maribelle. "I gave him the snacks," she whispered.

Nowi giggled. "My secret," she declared quietly, putting two fingers to her lips.

"I'm not a lady, Maribelle, so I'll assume you're talking about Robin," I replied loudly, taking a bit of joy from watching her fume at me, "And to answer your question, Lissa, I'm twenty-three."

Or at least, twenty-three in August, which... oh, yeah, that might have happened already. What were the months here? How had I not asked that before?

"You look older than that," Lissa concluded, spinning in place, "I thought maybe twenty-six."

"Thanks," I replied flatly, "I'll take it as a compliment. Though..." I trailed off. Catching Lissa's curiosity, I continued, "What month is it here, actually? Sorry, I'm from, uh, a pretty faraway place. We might have different month names and stuff."

" _Later_ ," Maribelle interrupted, clearing her throat, "Andrew, stop interrupting Lissa. We're busy enough as it is."

Feeling some heat on my cheeks, I looked down. "Sorry about tha- oh wow, you're right, I should be dead right now."

"It was pretty disgusting," Lissa stuck out her tongue, idling a bit longer.

"Icky," Nowi agreed.

Maribelle cleared her throat again.

Fearing- quite rationally- for our lives, we decided to not continue that conversation.

Much to Maribelle's chagrin, though, Nowi stuck around, prodding me with odd questions and telling me about what I'd missed while... sorta dead. All things considered, it was a nice way to spend the evening.

[][][][][][][][]

Or rather, it would have been a nice way to spend the evening.

A bedraggled Robin stormed into the tent, her posture slack and eyes haunted. Wet, clumped strands of hair clung to her hands as she massaged her temples. "We're," she started, breaking into a fit of coughs that wracked her slight frame, "We're heading out. General Mustafa is letting us pass. Maribelle, I've split off the same regiment as last time for transporting the injured. Let me know if you need extra."

My heart went out to her, it really did. Everything about her oozed exhaustion- I just wasn't sure how much of it was mental. With the rest of me stuck in bed, though, I could only offer a sad smile and try to dig up some jokes. "Good job, Robin," I said, keeping my voice as level as possible, "You're doing a damn good job."

Robin rounded on us, unfocused eyes staring beyond us. Her limp fingers flexed, and her lips parted slightly.

"Uh-huh," Nowi yawned, shifting in her spot. She'd found a blanket and settled down in the chair next to my cot, slipping in and out of slumber. "Got to... squish some bad guys."

All at once, a crimson fire lit in her eyes, mouth twisting into a snarl. "A _good job_?" she spat, stalking towards me, "Emmeryn is _dead_ , Andrew. My best friend's older sister is dead and it's _my fault_ as a tactician," she continued, jabbing her finger towards me, "Don't you dare lie to me, Andrew. If this is what you call a _good job_ , it's no wonder you've nearly died twice."

Distantly, I heard Lissa gasp. A dull ache formed in my gut, each word a hammer blow against it and myself. One hand searched for the cane I knew was leaning against the cot as I fought to keep myself together. I hadn't expected this, and part of me begged to bite back. To strike verbally at her frail frame and obvious insecurities, venting anger back at its creator.

To...

To turn my back on her.

My hand found my cane. Swinging my legs around- gods, that _hurt_ \- I put all my weight on the cane and _pushed_. Needling pain coursed across my frame, but it wasn't too bad. I managed to pull myself up to my full height, both hands resting on the head of the cane. Nowi slowly slipped out of her chair, moving around the cot towards us.

We stared at each other for a long, tense moment. I counted time by my heartbeat, even as it started to calm. Finally, when I was forced to breathe, I let it back out in a sigh. What should I even say to her? What would help?

"I..." I started softly, taking a wavering step towards her. "I'm trying, Robin. We're all trying."

Robin's expression twisted once more, caught between rage and tears. "But it's not enough, Andrew. It's- I'm-" Her voice hitched, choked out by soundless thoughts.

Nowi threw her arms around Robin's waist, squeezing as she pressed her face into Robin's chest. "No," Nowi said flatly, voice muffled by the thick coat, "Nuh-uh."

"Oh, dear," Maribelle fretted, checking her patient one last time before striding towards us. "Robin, dear. It's alright."

"It's not!" Robin barked back, shaking her head, starting to wriggle in Nowi's iron grip, "Don't tell me that. It's not alright! Chrom's going to- to strip me of my rank and banish me. It's what I deserve."

 _That_ earned Robin a swift smack on the back of the head from Maribelle's umbrella. "Chrom wouldn't do that, Robin," Maribelle admonished sternly, "Nowi, dear? Let go of Robin so I can get her some tea. Lissa, would you mind?"

I blinked, looking around. Where _had_ Lissa run off to?

"The kettle's on the flame, Mari!" Lissa shouted back, emerging from behind a cloth divider. Her lips twitched into a lopsided smile, even as she rubbed dampness from her eyes. "Andrew, would you like some?"

The memory of jasmine warmed my thoughts. Shaking my head, I waved my free hand. "I'm good for now, Lissa. Robin," I stopped, turning back towards Robin as a thought occurred, "Given Maribelle isn't threatening me with bodily harm, I think I'm good to walk around. Were there any other people you needed to relay messages to?"

"You're not-?" Robin cut herself off, shaking her head and brushing tears from her face. Not quite meeting my eyes, she continued, "Thank you, Andrew. There's- there's just one person left. It might be hard to find her, but..."

"I can manage," I waved off, instantly regretting it. I'd jinxed myself, hadn't I?

Robin nodded, a weak smile forming on her lips. "If you insist," she hummed, "It's nothing that bad. We haven't seen Marth in a while- you know who she is, right? And she hasn't picked up the rations we leave for her."

"That shouldn't be too hard," I agreed, mentally hoping my future self wasn't too much of an arse. I enjoyed not being dead, even if 'close to dead' meant I got free tea.

[][][][][][][][]

Lucina was... hard to find, to put it lightly. I'd walked the length and breadth of camp as it was broken down for transport, and nobody had seen or heard from her. I distantly recalled how she appeared in-game to say something during Emmeryn's execution, but I had been nearly dead at the time, so I didn't spot her.

The rations were easy to find at least. A wrapped-up satchel of dried meats, bread, and nuts, placed neatly at the back of a wagon. The name 'Marth' was printed cleanly onto a scrap of parchment, which in turn was stuck in the knot holding the ration satchel together. It was pretty clever, actually. Stepping out of the way of a rushing person in grey, I took a moment to look around the camp.

Vaike was arm wrestling with Sully on the table they were supposed to be carrying. Stahl was carrying a gigantic soup pot with Gregor's help, and Lon'qu was holding a single large spoon as he trailed behind them. I chuckled at the sight, continuing to scan the camp. Who could help me find Lucina?

Perfect. Panne, legs crossed, was sitting on top of a crate as she fiddled with her long brown hair, wrapping one of her long, floppy ears into a braid. As I approached, I realized that the tannish look she had in the game was actually a very light coating of fur over her whole body. Did it look like that in the game? Probably not. Shaking my head, I limped close enough for Panne to notice me.

Regarding me with her ruddy maroon eyes, Panne tilted her head. "Man-spawn," she greeted curtly, jerking her chin towards me, "What do you want?"

"Do people only come to you when they want things?" I mused, feeling just a little bad about it. "Or do you just not want to talk to me?"

Panne huffed, uncrossing her legs and dropping to the ground. "What do you want?"

"Fair," I agreed, waving the ration satchel with my free hand, "Anyways, I'm Andrew. Do you know where Marth is?"

Turning her head to watch me with one eye, Panne sniffed. "I am Panne. You are taking the food to the child, correct?"

Nodding, I leaned on my cane. "Would you mind pointing me in the right direction?"

There was a long pause as she stared at me. Did I say the wrong thing?

"I have heard this phrase many times," Panne frowned, furrowing her brow, "How can I 'mind'? Man-spawn, my mind is in my head. It is not an action."

I couldn't help but chuckle, wincing as my stomach ached. "Sorry, sorry," I waved it off, "That wasn't at you. I was worried I'd made you angry somehow. Uh, anyways," I paused, trying to form an explanation, "When people ask if you 'mind', they're asking if it'd be annoying for you. If you _don't_ mind, it means you're willing to do whatever it is they're asking, or let them do whatever it is."

"Man-spawn are strange," Panne concluded, "I will take you to the child. I do not... _mind_."

Something told me she didn't get out much.

[][][][][][][][]

When I heard the jagged, stifled sobbing from behind the rock formation, I asked Panne to stay behind.

It seemed like the right thing to do.

That changed when I rounded the corner, finding the puffy blue eyes of Chrom's future daughter looking back at me... and down the length of Falchion, which was levelled at my chest. "Whoah, hey," I said hastily, putting my one free hand up in surrender, "I'm just here with food... Marth."

She sniffed, looking me up and down, eyes catching on my cane before drifting back to my face. "...Andrew?" she whispered to herself, barely loud enough for me to catch.

Her voice obviously sounded familiar, but I was struck by _how_ familiar it was. Lucina's voice actor probably was in something I watched, because I felt like I was expecting that voice out of several different faces.

I coughed again, feeling my cheeks heat once I realized I'd been spacing out. "I'm here with rations. Robin was worried about you."

Bright blue eyes glimmered with inner flame as Lucina regarded me with heart-twanging caution. Schooling her expression as she lowered the Falchion, Lucina furrowed her brow. "Who are you, good sir?"

Ah, so I wasn't supposed to hear her say my name. She didn't _look_ like she was going to stab me, so I limped over to a rock and sat down on it. "Andrew," I offered, grunting as I shifted my weight, "Nice to meet you, Lucina. Here's the rations," I stuck out the satchel, looking her up and down. "You need to eat."

I met her blazing gaze for a moment, running my hand through my hair. Anxiety and empathetic aches twisted my gut as I really _saw_ her: She looked nearly as skinny as Robin, all lean muscle and none of the baby fat one would expect on a happy child. Because she wasn't, and never would get to be.

"I know many things about the future, Andrew, including who you are. And I know not to trust you," she said cautiously, taking the satchel hastily, "But I know you are not a threat to me. Now, tell me: how do you know my name?" It was not a question: it was a demand backed by steel will and blue fire.

I stiffened, cursing under my breath. "I called you Lucina instead of Marth, didn't I?" I muttered, "And I think you know the reason. If you don't, my future self..." I trailed off, watching as her hand moved back to the Falchion. "I must've been a real piece of work, huh?"

Clearing my throat and rolling my neck, I let out another long sigh. "The answer to most of your questions, Lucina, is that I'm an Outlander," I echoed Naga's name for me quietly, hands tensing over my cane. "I'm not... _from_ here. Not from Valm, or from Archanea, or from any other place you can sail or walk to." I had hoped I'd feel better for having said it- a load off my shoulders, and all that. I certainly didn't feel _better_ , but I didn't feel worse either.

I paused for breath, eyes tracing the swirling wood grain on my cane. "But that doesn't really _answer_ the question, does it. Your story- well," looking up, meeting her eyes, I gestured broadly to our surroundings. " _This_ story is one I know quite well. I know you come from a future where Chrom and Robin failed to stop Grima's return, and that all the other children came with you. Just two days ago, I warned Robin about Emmeryn's execution. I-" my throat caught, head throbbing in time with my heartbeat.

"And I never told you any of this? I _know_ that I lived long enough to spill the beans- er, to tell you the truth- but it seems ridiculous that I wouldn't tell you this stuff," I added quickly, breaking eye contact, "Guess I really was awful."

Levelling her gaze at me, Lucina furrowed her brow. "I believe you," she said, as if sounding out the words for the first time.

This whole conversation felt odd, but her hand was straying from Falchion, so I was doing _something_ right. But if I couldn't convince her that I was telling the truth in spite of whatever I'd done in the future... well, Tiki believed me and I _think_ Robin believed me. Or she thought I was crazy, but the good kind of crazy. "It's alright for you to not trust me, Lucina. All you need is to-"

"I _said_ ," Lucina stressed, tapping her foot and biting her lip, "I believe you."

Countless anxious possibilities showed themselves out the door and off a cliff as every train of thought derailed simultaneously. "Holy crap," I blurted, "You actually believe me? Lucina, up until a moment ago, I thought you were going to stab me. Not that you believing me is a bad thing," I added hastily, seeing her baffled expression, "But I kind of assumed you'd be harder to convince. What'd I do right?"

This time, when her hand returned to the Falchion, it was to drum her fingers on it. "Lady Tiki, the Voice of Naga, put significant effort into saving you," Lucina explained patiently, brushing a lock of blue hair aside, "And while I am dubious about you being an 'Outlander,' I see no reason to distrust anything else you have said."

She shuffled awkwardly as I digested her words, possibly staring intensely at her in the process. "That's very reasonable of you," I agreed, nodding along once I'd found my voice again, "That makes a lot of sense. Once again, Tiki saves the day."

At least four days in a row of Tiki saving the day, to be specific. I really needed to get her a thank-you gift of some sort. Possibly several, all very expensive.

Lucina winced, sniffing. "But it was not enough to change my aunt's fate, was it?"

And here I thought I'd distracted her from that. "Come on," I encouraged, waggling my cane at her, "Why so blue, princess?"

Her expression sharpened to a furious point, and for the second time that day, I had pushed the wrong button. "You _dare_ -" Lucina sputtered, setting her ration down before stalking towards me. "My aunt is _dead_ , Andrew."

I worked my jaw, looking away.

A stinging pain lashed across my cheek, sending me tumbling backwards off my rock. My stomach hurt nearly as much as when a javelin had been stuck in it, and my heart rang a strange, aching beat.

I spent at least a minute staring up at the sky, wincing as a raindrop hit me on the cheek. The same cheek Lucina had just closed-fist slapped, of course. "Ahh..." I groaned, "Did you just _punch_ me? I probably deserved a slap, but man, that _hurts_."

"Oh, gods," Lucina stuttered, her head coming into view as she covered her mouth, "I'm not sure what came over me, Andrew. I didn't mean to-"

I forced out a chuckle, pushing the pain back down. "It's fine, it's fine," I lied, "Well, I can guess who your mother is now," I mused, thinking back on my memories of the game, "Would you mind helping me up?"

All things considered, it could have gone worse.

"What is this, eh?" Gregor barked, somewhere out of sight. "Strange blue-haired child attacked Andrew? Gregor is not liking this. Stand still, child, so Gregor may capture you!"

"Ughhhh," I groaned, "I need to stop jinxing myself."

[][][][][][][][]


	22. Enigmatic Pragmatic

{}{}{Anna}{}{}

Something was wrong with me.

There were only three possible conclusions: I was sick, dying, or bored beyond my wildest speculations of what the word 'boredom' could mean. I didn't _feel_ sick, and twenty-six is a bit young to die of old age, so it had to be boredom. After counting my money for the tenth time that day (seventy five gold, two hundred silver, one stone's worth of salt, thirty copper, sixteen small gemstones, and one rough-cut diamond), and finding it _unenjoyable_ , I changed my mind and decided I must be dying.

When I told Laurent this, he seemed surprised, and offered his services as a healer.

People these days just don't get it.

After about two days of not dying, I went back to boredom. Across the five languages (plus Northern Valmese) I could speak fluently, none of them had words that came close to describing how bored I was.

Even then, boredom probably wasn't the right word for it.

"Fascinating. It appears the climate of Regna Ferox was one of the few unchanged by Grima's return," Laurent remarked, scribbling something down (good gods his handwriting is awful) in a battered notebook.

Can't get bored when you have a kid from the future blurting out stuff like that, can you?

I took a moment to admire our surroundings. Snow, snow, tree covered in snow, hill, snow. Same stuff we'd been seeing since we crossed the border a day ago. "Uh-huh," I replied, shifting my grip on the reigns so I could tighten my scarf, "Fascinating."

Missing my tone completely, Laurent nodded, dumping a lump snow from his hat onto his knees. Blushing slightly, he continued, "Though it is not precisely in my area of expertise, climate research has become something of a hobby for me. Once I compared my older notes against the weather we are experiencing now..." He trailed off, voice dropping as he started to mumble.

Boredom wasn't the right word, but it wasn't _exciting_ either.

I'd much rather be bartering with a merchant, cutting deals, or parting a wayward fool from their money. Or, ideally, all of those things at once- lining my pockets with money from a foolish merchant always put a pep in my step.

But, unfortunately, our destination was still two days away. I could survive that long.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

Half an hour later, I had given up. There was only one thing left to do-

Talk to Laurent.

"Hey, Laurent," I started casually, gesturing at the journal sticking out of his pocket, "How old's that journal?"

Blinking, he turned to look at me. "This?" he affirmed, removing the journal from his pocket.

"Yeah."

Furrowing his brow, Laurent moved his lips silently. "Ah. I purchased it approximately seven years ago from your sister."

My sister! Even during the apocalypse, my family could turn a profit. I'd rather not have to deal with an apocalypse, but it couldn't be much harder than selling damaged minecarts to a herbalist. The holes were for drainage, of course, and with only a little bit of work they could be mobile herb gardens!

I winked at him. "You sure it wasn't me, kid? We do look pretty similar," I told him, putting a finger to my chin, "Any idea which one?"

"The youngest, I believe," Laurent replied instantly, "And, unfortunately, you had already passed away at that juncture."

Don't stab children, I reminded myself, even if it was really tempting. "Well, I can assure you she charged you a fair price," I started, closing my eyes for a moment, "Me, dying? Yeah, if I kept letting Andrew drag me into things, I can see that."

"Ah," Laurent paused, "I cannot reveal further information."

"Good talk," I grumbled, looking away, "Thanks."

He wanted to correct me about something, I could just tell. Maybe I'd gotten Andrew killed, instead of the other way around? Ha, nothing new there.

I wasn't bored anymore, at least. I just felt... empty.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

The next day, thankfully, found us at our destination- Port Rhaesis, in Regna Ferox. Sure, it was cold, and sure, I had to part with one gold and ten copper (or half a small gemstone, but I was saving those and didn't know how to split them), but it was for a good cause.

Not _charity,_ gods no! This money went to a better cause: getting Laurent off my cart, and letting me move on with my life without feeling bad about it.

And the faster that happened, the better.

Rhaesis, like always, was exactly halfway between bustling and barren. Handfuls of warmly dressed people bustled between buildings, stopping shortly at merchant stalls before going back indoors. Sailors, being sailors, shouted at each other in a blend of languages as they loaded or unloaded crates of supplies from ships.

We finally rolled to a stop next to an inn- the Red Tankard, according to the slightly singed sign swinging in the salty wind. I had to hide a little giggle behind my hand; they _still_ hadn't fixed it after last time! Maybe it was to add character?

Nah. Probably just to remind sailors not to grope cute mages. Now _that_ had been a profitable bar fight! Lara was pretty tough for a mage, and the barkeep had paid us both a tidy sum to not kill the adventurous idiot.

Laurent slid off his seat, boots crunching unsteadily in the thin layer of snow. Adjusting his wide-brimmed hat, he turned around to nod at me. "Thank you, Miss Anna, for your assistance. I suspect I would have been wandering for quite some time without you."

"Mhm. There's a cartographer in town, maybe put some of this coin I'm giving you to good use..." I paused, rolling my eyes at Laurent's frown. "Look, it's been great getting to know you," I drawled, putting a finger to my chin as I tossed a small sack of coin up and down, "But this is where the ride ends. You can hitch a ride to Ephesus from here." Winking, I caught the sack one last time before scooching over to hand it off to Laurent. "I think I even saw a caravan just outside of town. Don't get your money stolen, alright?"

"Rest assured, I am a capable negotiator," Laurent nodded, accepting the sack and stowing it away, "I am curious, though; where are you travelling from here?"

Annoyingly enough, back to Plegia. No, I'm not _stupid_! I needed to commission a ship to help me get my goods from Plegia. Before that, though, I'd get myself a decent room at the inn and a better coat for this Feroxi weather.

That was always the plan (yes, even the coat)- and if Andrew and Tiki were starting to get on my nerves, I would've split with them here, too. Some things happen earlier than expected, but it had worked out, in my opinion.

"Don't worry about it," I told him, waving a hand and looking away, "We don't have long before sunset, so you might want to get going, alright?"

"Ah, of course," he agreed, turning away, "I'd best get going, as you say. Goodbye, Miss Anna."

Hopefully, a final and non-lethal goodbye. "Good luck, Laurent," I said instead, "And goodbye."

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

I was going to stab this man.

Maybe that was an exaggeration, but his prices seemed nothing short of criminal. And he was nowhere near skilled enough to get away with it, which was almost as intolerable.

"Seven silver and no lower," the old innkeep huffed, one arm crossed over his chest as he stroked a pepper-grey beard, "Lotta demand f' my rooms these las' weeks. Seven silver f' the night, no more, no less. S' a good deal, y'hear?"

Leaning back in the creaky wooden chair, I raised an eyebrow and scanned the tavern. Two or three gruff-looking men (I'd put money on them being vagrants) quietly trading stories sat in the dimly-lit corner, their thick coats hanging from the rough wooden posts lining the walls. A slight woman with short brown hair tended the bar, occasionally moving to refill the vagrants' tankards when she wasn't eavesdropping on my conversation.

"Lotta demand, huh?" I smirked, putting a finger to my chin as I looked back at the innkeep, "Should I go ask those fine fellows over there how much they paid?"'

Slumping slightly, the innkeep ran a hand through thinning hair. "Five silver, five silver," he amended, glancing over to the three men. His stern, long-nosed countenance softened for a moment. "Fine fellows," he chuckled, switching over to the native speech of the Feroxi, " _Fine as I am young. Elaine, that'll be their last round until they pay half the cost, alright?_ "

They probably didn't know I spoke the language. I decided to keep it that way- at least until they said something rude about me, so I could embarrass them into giving me a discount. Reminding myself to not call the girl by name yet, I turned my smirk into a winning smile. Putting both arms on the table, I used one hand as a chin rest. "Five whole silver, really? You have a hot spring in the back or something? Maybe a roast lamb for dinner?"

He shook his head sadly at both, deflating further. "T' be frank, miss, sounds like y've been out deaf in the wilds. Most of my rooms were bought by foreigners from some place in Valm, an' they sleep _early_. They're everywhere in town, buying all our food an'-"

I tuned out his rambling about how foreign people are weird, nodding along politely and smiling where needed.

Foreigners from Valm, huh? He didn't seem to be lying, and with how aggressively Elaine was polishing the tabletops, she didn't like something about what he was saying. Maybe she had a crush on one of them, or she hated them, or... well, it wasn't my business, and I didn't know if I could profit off that either.

But _why_ were there so many people from Valm here? Running from the war, I guessed. Now that I could profit on, so I made a mental note to buy plateware and chat a woodworker into making good chopsticks. Both were pretty cheap if you knew where to buy, and everyone seemed to think the only _good_ plateware and cutlery are the moderately expensive ones.

It wasn't my business to correct them anyways; it was my business to make money off of them.

Finally, the old man fell silent, looking more world-weary than ever. Digging a little bit to remember what he'd just said, I nodded. "So, I'm tired," I lied, drooping my eyes a little and letting out a long sigh, "And I think I know a solution to our little impasse on price. How about I go and eat elsewhere tonight, then pay you four silver for the room? I'll go no higher," I warned, waggling a finger.

" _A pox on this woman,_ " the innkeep muttered, once again speaking in Feroxi, "Fine. Four silver it is. Elaine, which rooms are ready?"

Well, someone had pent-up anger. I winked at him, removing four of the five silver I'd expected to pay tonight and sliding them over the table. "What a pleasure doing business with you," I smiled, standing up and turning towards the girl, "Elaine, right? Nice to meet you. I'm Anna," I said, as if she hadn't heard it when I started bickering with the innkeep, "No, not _that_ Anna, that's my sister. No fires in the tavern, I promise!"

Unless someone got handsy. Then, of course, all bets were off.

Hiding a smirk, I checked one item off my list for the day and tacked on 'buy dinner'- one of two down... two to go. Huh.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

Twice in one day? Is everyone in this town an idiot, or have they just forgotten how to set prices?

The merchant in front of me couldn't have been older than thirty, but the harsh weather and hunched back made him look closer to fifty. Even hunched, he loomed over me in his gigantic blue coat, lined with well-kept fox fur. Rubbing his gloved hands together, he shook his head.

"No, no," he muttered, not meeting my eyes, "You offer too little, missus. I tailor boots and coats every day for many years, yes? But, you see, cannot make new coat every day," he continued, turning slightly to gesture at the row of mostly coat racks behind him. "Are paying for _quality_ and protection from Feroxi winter, not for cheap Ylissean coat for cold autumn."

Loosening my nice, overly warm cloak, I bit back a few curses. How could he keep on so many _layers_ indoors? I was sweating just looking at him, and if that didn't up my frustration, I didn't know what would.

That's a lie. I knew exactly what would frustrate me:

_Boring negotiations._

"Uh-huh," I hummed, tapping my boot against the wood floor, "I totally understand, sir. I've heard great things about your coats! A friend of mine, Boris, still uses that longcoat he bought... hm, seven years ago? No, eight. And can I say," I batted my eyelashes, putting a finger to my chin, "They look _even better_ now. But! Four gold? _Four gold_?" Yes, I know. Complimenting the product would make bringing the price down harder. I'm not stupid.

I had a plan. And, gods, if I had _any_ other option for a decent coat, I'd have left this place ten minutes ago.

"Four gold," the man agreed obliviously, drumming his hand against a table. "Are paying for good quality. Good for Feroxi winter-"

"I've heard," I assured him politely, tilting my head. "But who can pay four gold for a coat, Mister... Morne, right?" I trailed off, raising an eyebrow. Through the half-open door to the back room of his shop, I caught my reflection in the mirror. My smile didn't look _too_ fake, good.

"Cassius Morne," he nodded, "Surely you know this, yes? Have met you before."

Snorting, I shrugged. "With all due respect, Mister Morne," I started, wondering how much respect that actually was, "If we've met, it was years ago. Any sooner than that, and it'd have to be one of my sisters-"

"Annas, yes, yes," he agreed, wringing his hands as he sighed, "Could never forget hair and eyes, no. Nothing quite like your family. All same name, though, how did that work when mother called for you?"

Normally, I'd crack a joke or start walking out. But I'd started this personal discussion- was I really that rusty?- so I just brushed it off. Narrowing my eyes, I shook my head. "We have our ways, Mister Morne," I began, sticking a hand in my pouch, "But that's not why I'm here. One gold for _that_ coat," I continued, dropping a single gold coin on the table as I pointed to the long, red coat behind him. Bit large, but it'd do.

His eyebrows shot up, lips curling into a baffled half-smile. "Ah, you have fire! Audacious, yes. If you wanted to steal, would have done while my back was turned. Three gold and... twelve silver, yes. I have coat in just your size, lined with wolf fur- very expensive in such quality, you see. One moment." Cassius turned around, blue coat swirling around him as he swept into the back room.

Even when there was progress, he managed to drag it out. I'd bet money the coat he's offering isn't even red! Stifling a groan, I scanned the shop for a seat. Would it be rude for me to pull one up? Could I just sit on the table? No, I couldn't do the latter; he'd stare at my rear the whole time. Unless I had to bust out _that_ set of tactics, that was... off the table.

"Groaning, eh? Tired? Take a seat, take a seat," Cassius said, emerging from the room holding a slim off-white (ha!) coat. That fur lining _would_ look great on me, though...

"I just remembered something, don't worry about it," I waved off, stepping forward to inspect the coat. It couldn't _possibly_ be worth-

I cursed under my breath. "Two gold," I bit out, running my hand along a fur-trimmed sleeve, "Correct me if I'm wrong, Mister Morne, but are those _pockets_ on the inner lining? Dagger-sized pockets?"

 _It had pockets_. Do you know how hard it is to find good, durable clothes with pockets? Let me specify: Do you know how hard it is to find women's clothing with pockets? It's already hard enough to find a tailor- paying them extra to give me pockets always left a bad taste in my mouth.

Cassius frowned, adjusting his grip on the coat's shoulders. "...was thinking pockets for journals, coin, and snacks, but daggers work too, yes."

"So two gold works?" I pressed, turning around so he could put the coat on, "I'd pay that for this coat, easily."

I could barely i magine having to buy _three_ coats here- one for me, one for Andrew, one for Tiki. There's another reason not to travel with friends. Six gold for three coats!

"No," Cassius said firmly, slipping one of the sleeves over my arm, "Three gold, no less."

Once the coat was all the way on, I had a mild crisis of money. "Gods, this is so _comfy_ ," I purred, fiddling with the attached belt so it cinched around my waist, "But three gold? That seems a little high."

With sleeves like this, I could even bring back the wrist sheathes. This was a fantastic coat, and the best way to celebrate would be to get a good deal on it.

"Do not test me," he warned, walking around to see me from the front, "Is very good coat on you. Would be pity if coat had to stay, yes?"

Oh, now he brings out the negotiation skills. Was this his plan all along? To trap me in this amazing coat, then extort me for my hard-earned gold? Clever man. Time to break out _my_ master negotiation skills. Exhaling sharply through my nose, I crossed my arms. "You drive a hard bargain, Mister Morne. But let's be reasonable- you don't charge three gold for your coats normally, do you?"

"And there is heart of problem," Cassius sighed, crossing his own arms, "Would charge one gold, maybe two... but now? Stock is low, and have large order for simple winter clothes. Cannot spend time on luxury coats," he continued, brow furrowing as he gestured to my (yes, _my_ ) coat, "So price goes up, yes?"

A large order, huh. Thinking back to the innkeep's rambling on foreigners, I put a finger to my chin. A bell rung somewhere in my head, but I couldn't figure out how all this _connected_! Well, other than the obvious. "Let me guess, Valmese?" I mused, "I heard the same stuff from the innkeeper, but he didn't seem to like them very much. All that considered..." I faked a sigh. "Fine. I'll up my offer to two gold and twelve silver, but I don't have that much silver on me. Do you make change?"

"Many questions, impatient child," he admonished, walking towards his back room, "Have change, yes. Will take deal- but next time, bring a friend, yes?"

Success! I could barely contain my glee as I brought out two more gold coins, stopping short as the rest of his sentence caught up with me. "Can't do that one, Mister Morne," I shook my head, hefting the coins in my hand, "I try not to keep much company."

There was that feeling again- like something near my heart didn't quite fit, or my wallet was emptier than I'd like.

"Say," I frowned, staring intently at the coins, "Do you know a place where I could get some food?"

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

There was a place that cooked and sold food, but like everyone else, they were on short supply because of the Valmese. I came just in time for them to run out of stew, and had to resort to their second offering:

Stir fry.

Mediocre at best. They overdid the garlic and over _cooked_ the venison.

I'd rather not talk about it.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

Since the food was... not great, I ate it as quickly as possible (only marginally slower than that time Tiki ate a whole chicken in maybe three bites, and a whole lot more dignified!)- which meant I had enough time before sundown to try and wrangle a ship! So, in a way, cheap mediocre food did me a favor. A favor I'd rather have done without, but a favor.

And I'd have no trouble finding a ship captain, I was certain. The best way to a wrangle a ship, Boris always said, was to follow the smell of alcohol.

Sorry, "Best way to find ship captain? Always follow nose to tankard, ha!" But I think my way sounded better, so I usually said that instead. And I'd take that advice, as I had countless times before, with the hope it _wouldn't_ lead me to the man himself. After all, what business would he have up here? His homeland's way further north-

Three Valmese men walked past me, stopping me in my tracks. Normally, I wouldn't care, but something struck me about them as I started walking again-

They were all Roseannean. I cursed well enough to make a sailor blush- literally, poor guy didn't know what hit him as skipped past.

This could be fantastic! Terrible, but fantastic. The tavern- Dancing Mermaid- wasn't far, and if my luck was as strange as usual, I'd be running into _Captain Tark_. A shiver ran down my spine at the thought, somewhere between excitement and terror; Boris' boss was one of the greatest ship captains I'd ever met, but... well. It's hard to explain.

Shaking that off, I focused on dodging the burly men carrying crates. Wouldn't do to get this new coat muddy- I still needed to dig up the old waterproofing spells so I could keep this thing blood free.

My heart and walled started to ache preemptively, though. This wasn't going to be cheap, but I could make this sacrifice knowing full well the sort of returns I was looking at. There were a few distinct possibilities: Tark would ask for twenty gold now, twenty later, and a favor when we were done. If Tark wasn't here (probably en route with more refugees, or stirring up trouble in Valm), then I'd probably be paying twenty gold in advance, and twenty-five to thirty gold later. Possibly more depending on shipping space. Worst case, it's a seedy ship captain, and I had to wait until someone cheaper and less likely to assault me comes along.

Or, arguably, best case, if I can help a plucky First Mate mutiny and get a free ride before they ride to swear allegiance to Tark's League. Not very likely, though, so I was hoping for one of the first two options.

The snow started to thin as I approached the tavern, the sound of my boots on cobbles echoing strangely in the fading twilight. Finally, I managed to swing open the thick door to the Dancing Mermaid. Clumps of hot air, alcohol, and rowdy sailor singing rushed past me, making me wrinkle my nose and loosen my coat just a little bit. Adjusting my hair and making sure every one of my daggers was where it should be, I nodded.

Gods, I hated these places. So _loud_! Ignoring the glances sailors and revelers threw my way, I scanned the amber-lit insides of the tavern for Captains. They're usually easy to spot- all clustered together, looking a lot more put-together than the rest.

Yes, I know, not all captains are like that. But I don't care about the other sorts.

I could pick out a few immediately. Two sat at opposite ends of a small table, fiddling with compasses and shuffling beads around on abacuses as they argued loudly in Feroxi. Something about curves and sea crossings, but I couldn't be bothered to translate the rest. Another was settling a fight between two sailors, staring down two drunks with all the conviction of a Priest before their congregation- _that_ looked promising.

"No... Not possible. Anna? Here?" Someone said loudly, their accent as thick as it was familiar.

Rounding to find the source, I spotted a slim man in a light white coat, drinking straight from a bottle of champagne as he eyed me.

"Every time I think I have an airtight plan..." I let out a long sigh, shoulders slouching as I slid towards his table. Still, I couldn't help but smile. This wasn't the worst way my plans could fall through. "Same to _you_ , Anatoli. What are you doing this far north?"

He chuckled, eyes sparkling as he set down the bottle. "You know answer! Has not changed since you were small girl. Always going where wind takes me, Anna, and wind-"

"Always blows where the Captain walks," I finished, rolling my eyes. Taking a seat so my back was against the wall- I didn't like how some of those men were eyeing me- I put a finger to my chin. "Uh-huh, I know how it goes. But you already know why I'm here, Anatoli, so let's skip to the part where you tell me what Boris is up to."

Anatoli picked up his bottle, swishing the contents around in a circular motion as he frowned. "Family has warehouses this far north? Did not know that, but!" he winked, putting a finger to his temple, "Am no simple man. Anna goes where money takes her!"

"Of course I go where money takes me!" I huffed, rolling my eyes again. "But the other bit? Yes- well, no," I corrected myself, raising a hand to stall the obvious question, "We have a warehouse northwest of here, one that I _know_ one of my sisters uses regularly. But from what I know of shipping routes, I wouldn't be able to pick up a ship there."

"This rings true, yes," Anatoli agreed, taking a swig of his drink. Taking a long breath, he looked me straight in the eyes. "Captain is not heading for Plegia, Anna. Nobody is."

Now there's a man that gets it. Straight to the point. "Took the question out of my mouth," I half-smiled, heart sinking, "Is it _really_ that bad?"

Anatoli paused, frowning. "Bad? No!" He decided, shaking his head, "Not bad. But League has other business, and many merchants looking East now for business. Too much war here, or not enough money, yes?"

"Would that business..." I speculated, tilting my head, "Have anything to do with the refugees? Has Tark called you all back to help out?"

"Not all, but many," Anatoli agreed, looking at the bottle. He tilted it towards me, raising an eyebrow. "Hm?"

Waving it off, I sat back in my seat. Helping refugees fell under 'charity' and thus was not my business. "How many more can this place _take_ , though? I mean, refugees are expensive, and you almost never get anything out of it."

"Is right thing to do, eh?" Anatoli retorted, leaning back to take a long drink from his bottle. When he came back up, his cheeks were slightly flushed. "Is singer friend still with you? Crew could use some cheering up- Captain has been very busy."

Singer friend, singer friend... Oh! "Andrew?" I checked, knowing the answer already, "Um, no. We split up in Plegia," I told him apologetically, "Tiki went with him."

Anatoli looked at me for a long moment. "Is pity," he shrugged, "Was good entertainer."

We sat in silence for a moment, and I took that as my cue to leave. Just as I was starting to sand, forming a goodbye on my lips, he raised a hand.

"Ah! If Anna cannot find work- Captain needs caravan from capital with food and furs. War makes hard life for some, yes?" He said hastily, winking, "Captain would be happy to see Anna again, too."

"Tempting," I lied, grimacing internally at the thought of it, "But I don't really _do_ that kind of work. I'll say hello to him anyways."

Boris was an exceedingly wealthy one considering his lifestyle- but he liked doing things out of the goodness of his heart. Kindness doesn't pay, but... hm. For some reason, this job didn't sound terrible. I'd never end up doing it, but it was an option.

"Good, good," Anatoli smiled, waving me off, "Have good night, Anna. Fair winds!"

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

Just to be sure, I checked with every other ship captain I could find. None of them were headed to Plegia.

Okay, one was, but he kept trying to grab me, so it was all I could do to stop myself from cutting off the offending hand.

By the time I left the tavern, the Sun had set fully, giving way to a sliver of moon and pools of amber firelight through thick windows. Accompanied only by the crunching of my boots through snow, I decided to make my way back to the inn. I could continue my efforts tomorrow, and if all else failed, I'd travel northwest and try and commission one of those ships. Harder, but I was _certain_ I could find one up there.

For some reason, it didn't seem very appealing.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

Morning blasted through my window with a vengeance, dragging me out of my pile of blankets and down to the first floor of the inn.

Elaine, the girl from the night before, plunked down a steaming tray of meaty stew and a towering mug of hot tea. "Good morning, miss!" she said loudly, a bright smile plastered across her face, "You're up bright and early."

I grunted in response, using my free hand to smooth out my hair. It took all I had to not dig in, but my merchant's instinct was screaming at me. "Didn't pay for food here," I forced out, looking firmly away from the food, "What's the price?"

"Oh!" Elaine blushed, clasping her hands together, "Someone paid for it just a few minutes ago. He's over-"

"Anna!" Boomed a _very_ familiar voice, accompanied by a loud thump. "Bright and joyful with dawn as ever, ha!"

I nearly slammed my head into my stew, letting out a long groan. "Morning, Boris. What do you want?"

"Want?" Boris puzzled, blue eyes twinkling as he waved to Elaine. "Elaine! Could you bring another breakfast? Am hungry now, stew looks delicious!"

Elaine nodded, scurrying away. "Of course, sir!"

"Is good soul," Boris nodded to himself, letting his hand rest on the table with a _thump_ , "Reminds of better days... No, want nothing, Anna. Just wanted to say hello to _old friend_ ," he smiled.

"Oh," I sighed, feeling the pressure ease as I took a swig of the tea. Bleh, not very good- not terrible though, so I'd drink it. "That's a relief. I saw Anatoli last night, and he asked about the caravan."

Rolling his neck, Boris' grin thinned to a sly smirk. "Anatoli told, yes," Boris agreed, "Lost bet, though. Thought Anna would not go this far north!"

Of course they'd bet on it, and it wasn't surprising that Boris won. Shrugging, I dug into my stew. Now _that_ was good stuff! I almost regretted not paying extra for it. Almost. "Uh-huh," I confirmed around a mouthful of food, "Thanks, then."

Elaine returned with a tray of food for Boris, which he accepted heartily. "Ah! Excellent service, Elaine's father should be proud!" he said, drinking the entire tankard of tea in one go. "Ahhh."

We went without talking for a few minutes, which was nice. Not everything needs to be about talking.

"Heard about friends," Boris clipped, breaking the breakfast silence, "Anna did not tell Anatoli whole truth."

I knew it. "You wanted to ask that the whole time, didn't you?" I accused, narrowing my eyes. He shrugged noncommittally, eyes twinkling.

"Anna ran away again, yes?" Boris continued, trying to cut a tough bit of meat with the provided knife. "What if this old man is next, eh?"

I dropped my fork, cursing as I bit the inside of my cheek. " _What_?" I shook my head, forcing a smile. "Of course not! I.. I owe you too much for that," I chuckled. Why would he ever ask something that silly? He knew me well enough.

"Hm?" He mused, setting the knife aside, "Was silly, yes. But better to ask than to worry."

"I guess," I shrugged, trying to brush it off. "Boris, are you using a rigging knife to cut your meat? Just eat the whole thing, it'll fit easily."

"Babushka always said," Boris started, making me groan, "Eat meat in small bits, better for stomach!"

Rolling my eyes, I pointedly stuffed a large piece of meat in my mouth and chomped down. "Yeah, but that's when you were small. I heard the same thing from my parents when I was _six._ "

He chuckled, sticking a chunk of carrot with his knife and popping it in his mouth. "Anna always speaks with fire, hah! No fear of smacking with wooden spoons. _Always_ listen to Babushka."

Forcing down a smile, I cut back to the point. "Look, Boris- I can pay you back for the meal. I'm not going on that caravan, okay?"

Not missing a beat, Boris winked. "Caravan leaves at lunch today. Will pay extra if Anna is there early!"

"For the _last time_ -" I bit back. "You're always like this. Look, I'm not doing it."

At least breakfast was good. It made up for being pestered by Boris and then some.

It was nice to see him again, at least.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

An hour before the Sun reached its zenith, I'd sold all my tea, at prices a bit lower than I'd have liked.

I had a caravan to run, after all.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}


	23. Tea and Trouble

[][Andrew][]

Amber-gold dawn breached the horizon, a lance of light shattering against fading stars. Liquid fragments scattered gleaming across frost-tipped trees, glowing off snow-laden soil. I basked in those first dregs of sunlit warmth, still shivering in the frigid air of frosty Regna Ferox. The cold made my leg ache, nipping at my face and fingertips. It was- like all my injuries- better now; upon our arrival at the wall, Maribelle had freed me from the cane.

Better, but not _best_ or _perfect_. I'd always have a scar running from my left hip up to just under my ribs. My right leg would probably ache if I ran too fast. My heart...

Well. You know. Better, but not perfect.

I took a long, deep breath, the crisp-cold air filling my lungs and tearing away what little sleepiness remained. I exhaled, watching the whitish puff of moisture fade into the sky. "Told you it was worth it," I grinned, wetting my cracked lips with my tongue, "Sunrises are always worth it, especially when you're somewhere new."

"T-their beauty is quite n-nearly beyond c-compare," Virion agreed through chattering teeth, pausing to breathe hotly into his hands, "A t-truly divine morning, perfect for a good cup of tea by the fire."

Glancing at the man out of the corner of my eye, I huffed, blowing two jets of 'steam' out of my nostrils. Mostly because it looked cool, but partially for effect. "I might join you, but that'd mean going inside. Is it too cold for you, Virion?" I offered a half-grin, shading my eyes as the Sun started to brighten.

"Tea is _ideally_ enjoyed indoors or in warmer weather," Virion stressed, looking off to the side with a dramatic, faraway look in his eyes. "But fear not, my friend! Should I be called to fight, the archest of archers will stride across the stage of battle w-with perfect poise. Brr."

He sunk deeper into his coat, looking more like a blue mop in a jacket than a handsome nobleman. "After tea, of course," he added, glancing towards me, "It would be horrific if I were to do battle without first enjoying the finer things."

Stifling a chuckle, I took a careful step back so I was leaning against the stony wall of the Longfort. Pausing for a moment, I threw my memory back across my experiences with the Shepherds- skipping past the bits where I was incapitated or feeling awful. "I never saw you drink any tea in Plegia, actually. Too warm there? Wait, no," I guessed, frowning thoughtfully, "Robin was drinking that peach stuff constantly, and Maribelle drank it a lot. Too warm for _you_?"

Virion shook his head emphatically, looking back towards the door. "A true gentleman and noble knows it is _never_ too warm for tea! It is only, I might add, sensible I partake in it... a touch less than is usual. Possibly in the company of lovely Lady Maribelle, or in my tent. Speaking of tea, perhaps I could go and set a kettle on now?"

Rolling my eyes, I shrugged, turning to look more directly at Virion. "The sunrise is pretty... much... okay, Virion, if you didn't like the cold _that much_ , I wasn't going to stop you from leaving. The door opens the other way, actually." I grumbled loudly, maybe a little bemused at Virion pushing heartily on the door.

"Of course it does," Virion nodded, his red-tinged cheeks getting just a bit rosier. Taking a step back and pulling the door open by its iron handle, he gestured for me to go through. "Thank you, my good friend."

As we walked through the door, I frowned. "And thank _you_. But wait, with Maribelle? I never saw you having tea with-"

Virion chuckled, opening his coat now that we were in the (slightly) warmer indoors. "We had a minor _disagreement_ of sorts. Nothing to worry about."

I couldn't for the life of me remember most of the Shepherds' supports at this point, and I doubted I'd ever actually used Maribelle and Virion adjacent to one another. Rounding a corner, we started descending the stairs to the main body of the fort.

It wasn't hard to guess, though. "You flirted with her, didn't you?"

"Is it so wrong to think a woman beautiful, and tell them so?" Virion retorted, crossing his arms- only to uncross them, so he could hold the railing again. "I recall you declaring something similar for all to hear."

Oh yeah. It felt like months ago now, but before the... failed rescue attempt, I'd apparently said something to the tune of 'everyone is pretty here'. At the time, I guess I didn't realize _everyone had heard me_. On the upside, at least it means my voice carries.

Utterly failing to hide my blush, I fought back with a wolfish grin. "I think it's the _style_ , Virion. When you do it, it sounds like you're trying to sleep with them."

Virion sputtered, shaking his head.

It was a good morning, all things considered. The tea wasn't my favorite, but vanilla and citrus was still an excellent choice.

[][][][][][][][]

"Hey, Duds. Hey, Ruffles."

My heart jumped a few beats, and I hastily set down my nearly empty cup of tea. "Christ, don't _do_ that," I grumbled, focusing on the newcomer.

Leaning against a wooden pillar, just out of my regular line of sight, was Gaius- lit orange by the firelight and half in the shadow of Virion's chair. His outfit looked vaguely similar to his game outfit, now that I was looking carefully; a greyish-brown tunic, belted at the waist, with loose pants stuffed into the tops of boots just below the knee. And, of course, he had two lollipops stuck in a breast pocket, plus another in his mouth.

I was of two minds on what to say to him, but Virion beat me to... using words, I guess? He huffed, adjusting his long blue hair and setting down his teacup with perfect poise. "Gaius, my friend, you must be more careful! You could have startled us into burning our throats, which would be quite tragic."

Working my jaw, I frowned. "Did you-"

Gaius chuckled, waving a hand. "Nah, Ruffles; I know you. You could drink leaf juice between volleys on the battlefield, no problem. Duds here, though?" He smirked, popping the lollipop out of his mouth and waggling it in my direction, "I can see it. You're more of a mage-y type, right?"

"Duds," I sounded out, rolling the word around on my tongue, "Huh." Blinking, I looked back at Gaius. "Well, I can use magic, just not very well. Why _Duds_?" I could guess, but it was best to hear it from the metaphorical candy-stealing horse's mouth.

Putting the lollipop back in, Gaius gave me a conspiratorial wink. "You always end up wearing fancy stuff and relaxing with fancy people. So, Duds."

On one hand: somehow, getting a Gaius nickname was validating and cathartic in indescribable ways. On the second hand, he'd called tea 'leaf juice', which undoubtedly was grounds for execution at the height of the British Empire. On the third- uh, hm. I made a mental note to workshop that one for later. Carrying on- "I'll take it, then. You're Gaius, right? Didn't you get a little spooked last time we spoke?"

He winced, looking away. "Stumbles chewed me out _hard_ for that one," he muttered, clearing his throat and glaring as Virion chuckled, "Look, I didn't know you, you knew me, and that's bad for a thief. I'm not sorry for exercising caution, but let's just pretend I apologised so Stumbles doesn't frown at me again."

And it was my fault for not, you know, being polite and asking his name first. All things considered, forgetting something that important could have gone way worse. I smirked, leaning heavily on the arm of the chair as I pushed myself up. "Your 'apology' is accepted, so far as..." I paused, frowning. Stumbles was a bit of a mean name for Sumia, but it wasn't my place to call that out. "As far as Sumia is concerned," I finished. "So, what brings you here, to our hot leaf juice drinking time?"

Virion spat out a mouthful of tea. "And here I presumed you civilized," he sighed dramatically, looking off into the middle distance (in this case, a stone wall).

Ignoring him, Gaius grinned lopsidedly, shifting the lollipop stick to the other side of his mouth. "I think I'll like you, Duds. Blue and Bubbles were looking for you and Ruffles for the War Council. Ruffles, you were supposed to be there already, and Duds, be there before noon."

Glancing down at his teacup, Virion let out a long sigh. "Robin does not truly need my assistance, but if it steadies her hand, I shall be there. Andrew, would you be so kind as to return this tea set to its proper place?"

I distantly recalled Virion's support with Robin involving chess, and Virion winning because he sacrificed pieces. I wasn't because I read the support a lot- I remembered it because they called it chess but it never _sounded_ like chess. Maybe I could teach them a simpler game, like checkers? Dragging myself back to reality with a cough, I looked around the room. Lots of big, fur-draped chairs, including one that nearly hid a door. "It's from the kitchen, right?" I queried, pointing vaguely towards the chair, "Er, whatever that room is. I assume it's a kitchen. I can probably figure out where it goes in there."

Virion lifted himself out of his chair, taking one last sip of tea before setting the cup down on a tray. "Perhaps more of a _pantry_ than a kitchen," he remarked, "I believe the bulk of cooking occurs much closer to the barracks and mess hall. My thanks, Andrew- it is rude of me to leave the cleaning to you, but plain _ungentlemanly_ to avoid my duties. I will see you soon, then?"

I shook his offered hand, rising to my feet carefully. This kind of 'goodbye' always felt stiff to me- too formal, too distancing. Classy, though, and Virion was nothing if not classy. Well, without class, he'd just be a creepy archer who hits on girls constantly, but I think the point stands. "Uh, yeah," I said, "See you then."

As Virion walked out of the room, Gaius moved about half a step before waving his hand and stopping again. "Nah, you know where you're going, right Ruffles?" he drawled, somehow managing to keep the lollipop firmly in his mouth as he spoke, "Best I stay here with Duds, keep him out of trouble. Heh. How's your face feeling, anyways?" He chuckled, crossing his arms and leaning against the pillar as I started to collect the tea set onto a single tray.

Turning around, Virion raised an eyebrow and spread his arms in an apologetic shrug. "I quite forgot to ask if you knew the way, my friend, but it seems all will be well. With that, I really must away," he paused, bending into a flourishing bow, "And I _will_ see you soon, good day."

Letting out a long breath through my nose, I rubbed my cheek absently. Being 'kept out of trouble' didn't sit well with me- I wasn't an invalid or an idiot- but I _did_ appreciate what he was doing. "I'm fine, thanks," I muttered, morphing my frown into a thin smirk, "And I don't plan on getting punched any time soon. If I do, I'll let you know ahead of time, alright?"

Gaius snorted, pulling the lollipop out of his mouth with a _pop_ (heh) and twirling it around between his fingers. "Don't get ahead of yourself there, Duds. Sounds suspiciously like you're gonna pick a fight without Maribelle's permission, and use me as the messenger."

And if I hadn't been an idiot when I first met Gaius, we could've been having these conversations even sooner. I am forever trapped in the consequences of my own actions, or something equally dramatic. More importantly, I noticed he hadn't said _no_. Smiling more widely, I lifted up the tray and started walking towards the kitchen... pantry... thing. Kantry? Pitchen? "What're your rates like? Do you take raw sugar, or only refined sweets?"

Loosely waggling his hand at me, lollipop held by the stick between two fingers, he shrugged before sticking the candy back in his mouth. "Now you're talking my language. Raw sugar doesn't do it for me, so it'll have to be proper sweets. Not very picky about it, though."

"You know I had to ask. No gold?" I chuckled, stopping as I approached the wooden door, which was quite clearly one of the sort you needed to pull open. Even if I was on the 'push' side, I'd learned pretty early that opening a door with your butt is actually _really hard_ when the door is made of heavy wood and wrought metal. "Mind opening the door for me? Preferably for free? All I have is this little dish of sugar, which is not an acceptable form of payment."

"Eh, sure," Gaius shrugged, striding towards me and lifting the metal hoop attached to the door. Stopping short of opening it, he turned his head to look at me. "Speaking of punching, was that your ex the other day?"

I didn't spit out my drink, because I'd drank it already and the rest was in a teapot. Teapots do not spit, I think. Once I'd gotten over Gaius using the word 'ex' as in ex-girlfriend, which I somehow didn't expect, I reeled myself back in and decided clarification was needed. "By 'ex', you're talking about, uh, Marth, right? Blue haired girl? Gaius, she's like... sixteen. Maybe." Hard to tell, what with years of obvious malnourishment, but sixteen sounded about right.

"Who else?" Gaius remarked, pulling the door open. "She's not your ex, then. What'd you do to get decked?"

"Told her a bad joke when she was in a bad mood," I said bluntly, "Not my finest hour. Thanks for holding the door. Anyways, I asked her-" I stopped short, and couldn't even cover it up with a cough. Crud. I still thought _Feeling blue, Princess?_ was a great pun, just told in bad taste. And, you know, to someone who canonically didn't have much of a sense of humor. More importantly, Gaius was still waiting. "Eh, it's personal," I said lamely, "We _do_ know each other, she just doesn't like me very much." And it broke my heart, but he didn't need to know that.

"I won't pry. Thief, remember?" He gestured to himself, the lollipop in his hand getting stuck to his pants. Prying it off with a muttered curse, he continued, "Good thing I didn't put money in that pool. Duds, it wasn't _that_ funny," he grumbled, turning away.

Trying a little harder to stifle my laughter, I set the tray down and glanced about for a cupboard or something to put it all in. "It balances out the accidental horror you created in my brain of dating someone I see as a kid, Gaius," I shot back, drumming my fingers on the tabletop, "Not intentional, I know. Okay, I'm stumped, where does this tea set go?"

"Why would _I_ know? I drink water or hot cocoa," Gaius rolled his eyes. "It can't be that hard to find, though. It's literally just shelves and a countertop. Just look for the empty space."

Looking around the room, I nodded sagely at the room full of... stuff... mostly food, but also a couple chairs and a surprisingly large number of moose antlers. And shelves. Lots of shelves. "Uh-huh. I say we cover the sugar to stop vermin, then just head towards the council meeting. Not much else to do, right? Maybe drop in and see where all the Shepherds are?"

Gaius shrugged. "Eh, why not?"

[][][][][][][][]

The air in the courtyard was bracing, and near complete absence of people _in_ the courtyard made me shiver.

Luckily, Vaike was there to fill up the entire space.

"...Nine, ten, aaand switch! Feel the burn! Teach's muscles are getting bigger by the minute!"

We watched Vaike rotate between different exercises, some of which I recognized, some of which I didn't. "Muscles don't work like that. But, that thing he did with his arms," I started, working my jaw, "Do you, uh-"

Gaius shook his head, removing the lollipopless stick from his mouth and starting another. "Not a clue, Duds. I think it works out the muscles behind your shoulderblades, though. Are there muscles there?"

Watching Vaike flip from crunches to push-ups, I shrugged, trying to concentrate on how that _felt_ in my back. When that didn't really help, I watched _Vaike's_ back as his rather bulky muscles moved. "I... think so?"

"Huh," Gaius said eloquently, crossing his arms. "Maybe the cold helps his workout routine? Nobody else is crazy enough to do that shirtless. Oh, here comes Sully. Got any ideas for a nickname?"

Sully waved at us, grinning widely before putting both of her hands on her hips. "Gaius! Vaike! ...Uh, Tiki's friend? Drew? Perfect weather for some good exercise! Wanna join us?"

I raised an eyebrow at that one, leaning over to stage-whisper to Gaius. "Was gonna say Flex, but I think that's better for Vaike. We can workshop Sully's after the meeting." Clearing my throat, I looked towards Sully and continued, "Close! The name's Andrew. I'm Tiki's friend too, of course, but I prefer Andrew. You're Sully, right? Nice to meet you properly."

"Har!" Sully barked, walking up close- tilting her chin up to look at me, then taking a half-step back. "You're a tall one. Nice to meet 'cha. Here for some training, get back on your feet proper-like?" She stuck out her hand, and I absently wondered how much force it would take to crush my hand. Hypothetically, of course.

Glancing at Vaike- who was now doing pull-ups using the bars on a half-raised iron gate- I stuck my hand out anyways and shook my head. "Nah, I don't think I'm ready for your level of fitness. Maybe some other time?"

Sully furrowed her brow, glancing at Vaike shortly. "Like that musclehead? Naw," she belted out a laugh, taking my hand and _nearly_ crushing it. "Don't need to be so polite about it, Andrew. Vaike's here because he keeps breaking the equipment, right?"

Vaike paused mid-rep, going one-handed so he could flex at us. "You betcha! The Teach is just too big for everyone else's britches!"

"Does he know what that phrase means?" I whispered, glancing at Gaius.

"Nope. He heard it at lunch two days ago and hasn't stopped using it since," Gaius replied instantly, popping the lollipop out of his mouth. "Pretty funny though."

Sully laughed again, slapping herself on the stomach and rolling her neck. "I ain't tellin' him... but I gotta tell him somethin' else. Vaike! It's lunch. Haul your arse to the front gate with everyone!"

"Lunch," I muttered, watching Vaike laugh (and flex). "We had something to do at lunch. Was it eat?" Something important, right? I shouldn't be forgetting anything this obvious.

Gaius frowned, looking at me strangely. "Uh. It was the war council, Duds. How'd you forget?"

 _The war council_. You know, that major plot event before going off to finish the Plegian War. Maybe even more important because Lucina was there, or at least around somewhere. I made a mental note to go track her down at some point today.

"I didn't for-" I paused, cursing under my breath. "Ooops. How fast can we get to... wherever it is?"

"Maybe three minutes, if we jog. One minute, if you feel like climbing," Gaius started, turning on his heel. "See ya, Flex. See ya, Sully. I gotta drop off Duds."

"I _am_ a fan of rock climbing," I muttered, looking up the side of the building, "But not this kind. Let's just- wait, Gaius! Jogging doesn't mean sprinting!"

[][][][][][][][]

A lot of time in my days was spent waiting, honestly.

Not that I minded, usually; it gave me time to think about what I'd say before I say it. Doesn't stop me from putting my foot in my mouth, but it at least makes me do it less. Probably.

Right now, though?

"So," I started awkwardly, coughing into my fist, "Uh. Hi."

Lucina nodded shortly at me, brow furrowed as she turned her gaze back towards the door. Voices- mostly familiar- emanated from the other side, just soft enough not to be understood. Chairs lined the sides of the room, all but two of them empty; of course, Lucina and I sat on opposite sides.

It was hard not to think about how small she looked, how young she looked with the Falchion by her side. Not that it was my business to judge- she'd done more than I'd managed in my life, and under far more pressure. And, if my gut feeling was right, she was far more useful in her own timeline than I ever was.

That knotted, aching feeling in my stomach returned with a vengeance. Not a good line of thought for me. Deep breaths, Andrew, deep breaths.

"You-" _don't like me. You don't trust me_. I coughed again, wincing and shifting in my seat. "Hey. Uh. Thanks for sticking around. You didn't need to do that, and I'm sure your knowledge will be invaluable. That's why we're both here, waiting to be invited in, right?"

Lucina tilted her head, looking at me strangely. "I was asked to be here. I was not told why, only that I should be here. Once this is over, I plan to leave again, and-" she caught herself, lips twitching into a frown. "I cannot interfere more than I already have."

I didn't really know what to say about that.

Well, more accurately, I had a thousand things I wanted to say. They crashed around my head, breaking things and demanding my full attention, slipping out of my grasp when I tried to focus. My stomach ached, and my hands tightened their grip on the chair.

 _Stay_ , I wanted to say. _It's alright._

"Well, if that's what you want to do," I said instead, shrugging and offering a wavering smile, "I can't really stop you."

Catching her gaze drifting to my leg, I sighed. "I'm still recovering, for one. You've probably heard the story by now, right?"

Lucina shook her head. "I have not."

She didn't really like talking to me, or at the very least I made her clam up. I mentally cursed as I reviewed my own words- of course she wouldn't have heard. After I'd cleared everything up, making sure Robin knew 'Marth' was sticking around for a bit, she'd practically gone into hiding. Even if she hadn't, some of the Shepherds still weren't over Emmeryn's death. I didn't blame them, but I hoped they'd recover sooner rather than later.

I'd done my best to try and entertain- to try and cheer people up. Nowi and I took time to try and rope people into board games (which Nowi trounced everyone at), but only Miriel, Stahl, Sumia, and Virion really bought into it. Cordelia, too, but she spent the whole time looking anxious, so we let her go early.

Point is, Lucina wouldn't have heard much about my injuries. Clearing my throat again, I spread my hands apologetically. "Yeah, people haven't been very talkative the last few days. Other than the now widespread story of me getting punched in the face," I added, smiling as I rubbed my cheek, "Hey, I already said it was fine, Lu- Marth. I had it coming. Snapped you right out of your funk, too, so I'll take it as a win."

She flushed sharply, looking away. "It was impulsive and childish of me," she mumbled, fidgeting with her hands, "And for that I should still apologise."

Poor girl. "Anyways," I continued, waving it off, "It's because I have terrible luck. Well, amazing luck, Tiki literally fell from the sky in front of us- er, me, and she's been a great friend ever since. But terrible luck because I keep _needing_ good luck to not die." That wasn't a very happy statement. Can't have that, can we? "So on my first mission, we were trying to keep Risen out of a town. They only really brought me along because I can wrangle Nowi," I admitted, grimacing internally, "Turns out the Risen were already there. And they had a leader- a Deadlord. We ran into him again... well, you know. That first time, Drych grabbed me and used me as bait for Tiki. When she didn't come quickly, he decided to-"

Lucina held up a hand, tensing sharply as the other hand went straight to her Falchion. "The Deadlord's name. Say it again."

I frowned. "Drych. He told me it himsel-"

"Drych," Lucina wavered, "Drych is here."

It didn't take a genius to figure out what was going on. I'd already suspected, but my heart sank at the confirmation. "He followed you from the future, then," I guessed.

"He-" Lucina cut herself off, shaking her head. "It is of no importance. You did not die then. How?"

"I appreciate the confidence," I replied flatly, quirking my lips into a half-smile, "Tiki and Chrom were able to hold their own against him," I supplied, gesturing to The Duke, "And then I stabbed him in the back. Didn't kill him, though." _Oh, and then I found out someone I cared about didn't care about me._ "It wasn't a very good day for me, honestly."

Lucina leapt to a standing position, dusting herself off. "I need to depart immediately," she said, voice cracking, "I must find all of my companions before _he_ does."

Go off into the wild to find the future kids. On her own. I'm no strategist, but that sounded like a terrible idea. She'd been fine before, though, so-

Oh, to hell with it. I'm not letting her run off yet.

I stood up as well, taking advantage of my longer strides to try and get ahead of her. My right leg complained, aching and sending needling outwards, but it could be ignored. "Wait, Lucina! Don't do it. At least, uh-" what reason would actually make her stay? I could lie, but that didn't seem like a good idea.

"Wait until after the meeting, at least. You have no idea where they ended up, or if they're even _here_ yet. We can-"

The door to the council room creaked open, and I turned to watch. Lucina stopped walking away, too.

Someone _sniffed_. "Oh, pegasus poop. I've done it now," a woman sighed quietly, stepping fully through the door as she dabbed a few tears off her face. Long, wavy brown hair tumbled down onto a soft pink shirt, and the handkerchief she was using on her face went into a pocket on her brown pants. "Chrom's going to have a bruise, and he's gonna be upset with me, and-"

Of all the people to come through- and, based on what I remembered of canon, Sumia was a practitioner of the closed-fist slap. I coughed politely. "Hey, Sumia," I started, struggling to find my words, "Are we needed inside?"

She sniffled again, shuffling over and slumping into a chair. "Y-yes." Somehow, she managed to look pretty doing it, but I suppose that comes with being a physically fit Pegasus Knight.

Lucina looked down at her feet, fidgeting awkwardly. "Of course, Lady Sumia. I- we-" she hesitated, looking off into the corner and flushing.

Oh my god they're both adorable. My heart is liquefied, and I feel bad about it. Not too bad, but bad. Carefully walking over to Sumia, I hesitantly put a hand on her shoulder. "Um," I started eloquently, "Do you want to talk about it, Sumia? It's the least I can do. Marth, you can head inside if you want to, but I don't think they'll mind if we're a minute or two late."

Clearing her throat, Lucina looked between the two of us. "O-of course." Unsurprisingly- meeting your mom in this sort of situation is probably pretty awkward- she turned around entirely and walked towards the council room door. Just as her hand rested on the handle, she paused, taking a deep breath. "Lady Sumia, whatever the problem may be, I assure you it'll be alright," she blurted, yanking the door open and closing it behind her.

Aww. Sumia smiled too, watching Marth walk away. "Poor girl," Sumia sighed, brown"She looks like she's been through a lot. Makes my problems seem so petty."

I released my grip on Sumia's shoulder, shifting over so I could take a seat next to her. "So," I started, lacing my fingers together, "What's up? You mentioned a bruise, and Chrom being upset with you. I don't believe that last bit."

Sumia buried her face in her hands. "I punched Chrom," Sumia groaned, her voice muffled, "I punched him in the face and he's going to be furious later."

That didn't seem much like Chrom. "I'm pretty sure he'd be mad immediately, Sumia. Let me guess, you tried to slap some-"

"I tried to slap some sense into him. But I've never slapped anyone before, and he looked so _sad_ and I panicked so-"

"So you punched him in the face," I summarized, hiding my smile. Yes, she was feeling terrible and that was awful, but the mental image was unfortunately hilarious. "Did he seem mad at you?"

"No," she sniffled, slowly pulling her head out of her hands. "N-not really, no. But what if he's just trying to be nice? What if he's really mad?"

Where was the steel-spined Sumia I'd met before? These two people were one and the same, and I was envious of her ability to be both. Narrowing my eyes, I shook my head. "You don't believe that, do you? If you apologised, then I'm sure he's going to-"

"Um, Andrew?"

I blinked, turning to see Chrom's head sticking out from between the doors. He did, in fact, have a bruise forming on his cheek. "I'm needed inside, right?"

"You are. And, well," he hesitated, glancing at Sumia. I gestured at Chrom to _get on with it_. His reaction- mostly bafflement- reminded me I'd spoken to the man maybe three times. Getting on with it, he added, "Sumia? Would you- would you like to have dinner with me, later?"

Sumia brushed her tears away, standing up and nodding furiously. "Yes! I'd love that. To have dinner with you. Later, during dinner."

If I was allergic to cheese I would have died instantly from these dorks. I hated to interrupt it, too, so I just walked over and pulled the door open more so I could walk inside.

[][][][][][][][]

The War Council- capital T, capital W, capital C- was the complete opposite of the rest of my day. I could tell that from the moment I stepped into the room, could _feel_ it radiating from the bodies of all present. Frederick, Robin, Basilio (He looked larger than _Boris_ ), Flavia (still not a man with hair on their chest, sorry Robin), and Phila were all here- Phila was a surprise, but it really shouldn't have been. Lucina was also here, but she was standing just as awkwardly as I was because Chrom was behind us being disgustingly romantic.

Back to Phila, she looked... well, older. Not _old_ old, but mid-thirties old, in the way female characters in Fire Emblem sometimes did. Still ridiculously pretty in her own way; pale skin, icy-blue hair pulled up into a bun, and eyes that burned somewhere between pink and red. Faint laugh (frown?) lines creased the sides of her lips, and crow's feet branched out subtly from her eyes. It was fascinating to see, honestly. I'd never really paid Phila much attention in game, but she was here and _alive_ , partially thanks to me. It was a warm, fuzzy feeling.

I took a deep breath, nodding at everyone in turn while Chrom returned to his seat around the war table. That brought my eyes down the the map, which had a lot of wooden blocks on it and scraps of parchment that I couldn't even _begin_ to puzzle out. I looked back up again, only to see Robin looking down at something in her notebook.

Phila cleared her throat, her voice light and hard as tempered steel. "You must be Andrew," she said slowly, giving me a curt nod, "Thank you for your advice, without which I would not be here today. I bear no malice towards you."

I blinked, frowning. "Uh," _bear no malice?_ What? Setting it aside, I squared my shoulders and bowed back. "I'm glad to have helped. It's nice to meet you, Miss Phila. And you as well, Khans." I had a bad feeling about this.

Basilio quirked the eyebrow over his one functioning eye, crossing his arms across his bare chest as a smile crept across his face. "I can't tell if that's casual or formal. I like that. I'm Khan Basilio, and my friend here is Khan Flavia. Just call us Basilio and-"

Flavia huffed, rolling her shoulders and cuffing Basilio in the arm. "That's _Great_ Khan to you, Basilio. Remember when my champions kicked _your_ champions' arses? I certainly do!"

"Great Khan," Basilio amended levelly, smiling, "For now. I thought I had it in the bag- a warrior beating Lon'qu without a single scratch, can you imagine it?" He chuckled, fixing Lucina in his gaze. "But I think I've worked out why, now. Went to knock you over with an elbow, and- ha!"

Lucina flushed, absently rubbing her knuckles. I'm guessing she punched him, or something. "I must apologise for misleading you, Khan-"

Basilio waved it off. "Being Great Khan is a lot of work, but I wanted to make Flavia _work_ for it. If anything, I was the one tricking you!" He tapped his forehead, his smile only widening when Flavia huffed and rolled her eyes. "Now I get to kick back and crack some skulls while someone else does all the paperwork."

Frederick cleared his throat loudly, rapping his hand against the table. "Business," he said curtly, "Apologies, Khan and Great Khan. I believe Commander Phila has been waiting to speak."

Basilio chuckled, sitting himself back down and resting his chin on his hand. Flavia seated herself moments later, leaning back and put her arms behind her head. She waved a hand towards Phila, as if to say _get on with it_.

"Thank you, Sir Frederick," Phila agreed, putting a hand to her side, "I would normally have no qualms letting this run as long as is desired, but I have an appointment with Lady Maribelle on account of my injuries."

Chrom winced visibly. They must have been _bad_ \- Robin turning slightly green only affirmed that.

"Now that all relevant parties are present- Lady Tiki being the exception, as I believe she is resting- I would like to move forward with our next items," she began, tapping a finger on a list in front of her, "Item one: Reviewing what information Andrew and Marth can provide us."

Seemed sensible. I glanced at Lucina, nodding. She furrowed her brow, and after a long moment, she nodded as well. "I will..." she paused, "I will relay what I believe is most important," she said finally.

"Item two," Phila continued, seemingly satisfied-

I didn't like the look in Chrom's eyes. I didn't like how Robin wouldn't meet _my_ eyes.

"Removing Andrew from the Shepherds' roster."

Ah.

Yeah, that would do it.

[][][][][][][][]


	24. Where the Brook is Deep

The world held its breath-

Well. For me.

I doubted it bothered any of them very much. Maybe Robin, from the way she wouldn't meet my eyes, or Chrom, who trapped my gaze with unspoken sympathy. If anything, that made it hurt more. But I was okay with that- hurt was something I knew, and knew how to deal with. It was as easy as putting on a mask for now, holding myself together until I could fall apart privately, with the help of a friend.

A bitter laugh choked itself in my throat. Sure, I could run to Tiki, but she was a _Shepherd_. Couldn't run to her forever, not when they're on the move.

I reached for a chair, pulling it over and sitting myself down. "Ah," I said listlessly, wondering when my voice had grown so soft, "I see."

This shouldn't hurt- I shook my head, heedless of what they might think. Of _course_ it hurt, and of course it twisted my stomach into an aching mass of barbed rope. _No_ , I wanted to say, _You can't do this. I can help_.

But I couldn't help. I'd just run away, as usual, and let someone better deal with it. Like Tiki, or Chrom, or Robin. All I'd done so far was be too little, too late. The least- gods, I can't choke up and cry _here_ \- the least I could do was, well, my best. So I reached down into my heart, heedless of the thorns, and came up with a cracked mask of... something. Someone I wasn't.

I looked up, drinking in the silence, wondering how many heartbeats had passed. Setting my shoulders square, I offered a lopsided smirk to hide how I bit my lip. "That's quite the bom-" bombshell. They wouldn't get that, would they? Covering it up with a cough into my elbow, I sighed loudly and placed my hands on the table. "Not exactly what I was hoping to hear, but, um," I hesitated, looking between Chrom, Robin, and Phila. "I can't say it surprises me. So let's talk about the other thing first- what was it?"

Hopefully that chuckle didn't sound as fake as it felt. I really had forgotten; people tend to forget things when their world comes crashing down in unexpected ways. I swept my eyes around the room, meeting everyone's eyes as I came around to look at Lucina. Her expression was a muddled mess of emotion, one that I didn't have the clarity of mind to figure out. Instead, as Phila cleared her throat, I nudged a chair out from the table, aiming it towards her with my foot.

"Item one," Phila began, furrowing her brow as she spoke, "Was to review what information you and Marth could provide us. We have discussed the knowledge already provided to us, and while I find the claimed origin to be dubious and untrustworthy-"

"Commander Phila," Frederick interjected firmly, one hand resting on the table as he drummed his fingers, "Please be seated."

I watched dully as Phila took a long, deep breath. Nodding, she slowly lowered herself down onto a chair.

Basilio crossed his arms, looking between me, Phila, and Frederick. Leaning over, he whispered something to Flavia- I couldn't quite catch it. Flavia smirked, though, rolling her eyes before cuffing Basilio in the shoulder.

Chrom met my eyes again, looking sad, sympathetic, and unyielding all at once. I knew he was just trying to be kind, but it just made it hurt more. "Andrew, Marth," he began kindly, propping his chin up with laced fingers, "Without either of you, I'm not sure we'd all be here for one reason or another. Andrew, you saved the lives of several pegasus knights. Marth, you saved me from being assassinated, and saved my sister from the Risen. On behalf of Ylisse," his lips twitched downwards for a second, blue eyes dimming, "Thank you. If there's anything else- _anything_ \- that might help us save lives, now is the time to tell us."

Basilio grunted, grinning faintly. "And don't go giving us a prophecy. Give it to us straight, no reading into it required."

"Seconded, but only because I don't think this buffoon can read to begin with! Ha!" Flavia pounded her chest loudly, shattering the tension in the room and ignoring the punch on the shoulder she received.

Frederick and Phila frowned in a roughly identical manner, crossing their arms over their chests. It seemed that the Exalted family had a preferred personality for their right hand men (or women, as the case was).

Lucina hesitated, hand resting gently on the back of the chair as she tried desperately to _not_ make eye contact with anyone in the room. She'd had no trouble doing that for- ohhh. Right, she has the Brand in one eye. Maybe I could suggest a hairstyle change? "I-" she hesitated, glancing at me, "There is very little I can offer. The fate I foresaw has passed, even with my interference..." Lucina trailed off, her gaze unfocused.

I snorted bitterly. "We both tried, Marth. You tried your best, I did what I could-" I cut myself off. Not a great line of thought, even if I was trying to be motivating. "I don't know about Marth, but I'm an _awful_ poet, so no prophecies from me. It's just a question of deciding what is actually worth telling you, I think."

Robin looked up finally, taking a long draw from her teacup. "Even the smallest detail could be critical," she said softly, eyes shimmering, "Like how someone's supposed to die, or how we kill a Deadlord. Or where a battle takes place, even."

There was a waver to Robin's voice that I didn't really know how to process.

What could I even say? I dug into my memory of the game, cursing once again as I found sizeable gaps and wishing I'd played it again before Three Houses like I'd promised myself. Technically, I mused, since I could never play Three Houses, I'd never actually broken my promise. Tapping my chin, I dug a bit deeper and came up mostly empty.

Maybe if I showed them enough knowledge, they'd keep me around? I dug deeper still, only to find rock bottom and my own reflection. It was a pipe dream to begin with. I could talk to Robin about her future counterpart, but I felt that topic could wait.

"Well," I drawled, drawing out the _l_ , "I can think of a few, I guess. There's one thing I'll tell you _after_ the war." I felt Phila's eyes boring into me, and I duly ignored it. Not out of spite, no; talking to her would probably make me cry. "Though by 'you', I mean Robin. It's just not important yet. As for the rest," I let out a long sigh, gesturing vaguely towards Lucina and the massive map spread across the table. "You defeat Gangrel at some point in the very near future, and then... I don't know."

Judging by everyone's expressions, I'd managed once again to disappoint.

Everyone was a strong word for it. It was really only Frederick, Phila, and Robin that seemed a bit upset- Basilio was _thrilled_ , Flavia was picking her nails with a dagger, and Chrom was frankly unreadable.

What was I supposed to say? Hey, you get attacked by Valm in two years, but don't do anything with this information? "Sorry, I'm not very useful right now," I shrugged, looking to Lucina, "Marth, you're the expert on this stuff. Anything to add?"

Brow furrowed, Lucina placed one hand on the pommel of her Falchion. "The Deadlord Drych must be dealt with as swiftly as possible. He is... Not from here, nor should he be here yet. I-" she stopped abruptly, looking down at her boots with firey intensity.

"Drych," Phila mused drily, "Would that happen to be the abomination that interfered with our rescue attempt?"

"I think so. Contextually, it's the only thing that makes sense," Robin hummed, tapping a quill on her journal, "Unless there's another Deadlord."

Should I say something? I knew what Lucina wanted to say, and I figured I'd be the one to chicken out. Guess not. "There are more like Marth," I said softly.

"Miss Tiki named the Deadlord during a meeting neither of you were present for," Frederick replied, nodding curtly towards me, "I believe she was relaying information from Andrew."

Guess nobody heard me. I nodded back, placing my hands on the table and pushing myself to standing. Actor's voice, Andrew; speak loud enough for the back row to hear.

"There are more like Marth," I declared, my voice echoing through the room and yanking Flavia's gaze away from her knife, "Many more. I don't know how many, or when they'll come, ah, out of hiding. But Drych knows they exist, as does his master."

The moment it passed through my lips, my mind latched onto the thought with a vice grip. The future children- the children of the Shepherds- were in danger, weren't they? And it was the Shepherds' duty to protect them. Not my duty, and I don't think it ever was. I'd just get captured, spill every secret I had, and then die in a ditch somewhere, if Grima had his way.

It was then that I registered the deafening, deadly silence in the room. A silence I had commanded myself, and now they were waiting. Lucina watched me closely, her expression a crumbling mask of calm over a child who'd seen too much.

"His master?" Chrom broached, lips drawn into a tight line, "It's not that woman from before, then."

Frederick drummed his fingers on the table. "Regardless, we must assume the Deadlord is present whenever that woman is spotted, and plan accordingly. Robin?"

Looking up from her journal, Robin ran an ink-stained hand through her increasingly black-streaked hair. If not for the gravity of the situation, I might have found her spiteful pout adorable. I still did, but it got buried under my other emotions almost instantly. "T-there isn't a plan for him, Frederick. I'm sorry. We're still running with the idea that Tiki, Chrom, and Lon'qu are needed to stop the Deadlord, but I just _don't know_!" she spat out, her free hand slamming down onto her journal and clenching into a fist. The scratchy sound of tearing paper filled the room, and Robin deflated visibly. "I just don't know. I'm sorry."

Basilio sighed, leaning back in his seat and rubbing the stubble on his face. "Sounds like a plan enough to me, and I'm willing to trust your Tactician, Chrom. She's got a good head on her shoulders, maybe screwed a little tighter than anyone up past the wall."

"And we'll be there to support you, of course," Flavia added, leaning forward and planting her knife in the table with a _thud_. "Unless Marth here has anything to add about how to defeat Drych. She certainly looks raring to go."

Our attention turned towards Lucina, who looked decidedly uncomfortable as she ran her hand repeatedly over the pommel of her Falchion. Wavering for a moment, she turned to face Chrom and took a shuddering breath. All at once, her fears vanished behind the polished mask of the leader- features clear, lips set, and if not for her drooping shoulders I'd say she was doing fine. "Drych hunted us to the very last, Prince Chrom. If Andrew does not know the secret to defeating him, then nobody does. The only permanent solution would be to kill his master."

"And his master would be...?" Phila raised an eyebrow, wincing and bringing a hand to her side.

Lucina shook her head. "That is dangerous kn-"

The creaking of wood and two pairs of footsteps heralded two new entries into our merry little council (or really, the merry little council plus Andrew). Turning my head to the side, I managed to catch a glimpse of long green hair before Tiki sat herself down in the chair next to mine, crossing her legs and folding her hands over one knee. Not a moment later, Virion stepped into view, taking a seat between Phila and Tiki. With more poise and poshness than I suspected possible, he nodded at everyone in the room individually before resting his hands on the table. "Oh, my sincerest apologies, good friends. I was more than happy to carry out the mission the lovely Commander Phila assigned to me, but I fear I grew distracted by a _fascinating_ conversation with Lady Tiki on the way back. Hopefully I did not overstep my bounds when I invited her to join us?"

"I would have invited myself. I always did find war councils entertaining- so much strategy I never could wrap my head around." Tiki snorted, cocking her head so one eye was fixed on me. Bringing one arm across her chest to support her other arm's elbow, she stroked her chin and winked. Softly, she said, "It has been some time, Andrew, since I last was able to speak with you. I trust you are well?"

I shrugged, which didn't fool Tiki for a second. "I've been better," I admitted, "Getting booted from the Shepherds is kinda ruining my mood, but I'm pretty sure-"

"-that it is for the best? Perhaps for your body, but not for your heart," she continued, one eyebrow raised as she turned to face the rest of the table, "I would enjoy if we caught up after the war, if we do not see each other before then. I rather like to keep in contact with my friends, and keep them _informed_ ," she stressed, looking quite pointedly at Frederick.

A bit of warmth blossomed in my heart, followed by a choked snort as Frederick's expression turned to bafflement. "I... I really appreciate that, Tiki, but I don't blame them for letting you sleep. As they say-"

Tiki rolled her eyes. "Don't wake the sleeping dragon, yes, yes. Allow me my pettiness, will you?" Pausing, she tilted her head and nodded at Chrom. "I am quite sorry for interrupting, Prince Chrom. Would it be possible to catch me up?"

"I wouldn't mind, Tiki. Oh, and Virion," Chrom added with a smile, "You did make sure they weren't pushing themselves too hard, right? I know where they're coming from, but now isn't the time for the Pegasus Knights to ride off behind enemy lines."

Phila cleared her throat, wincing as she coughed into her fist. "I told them as much yesterday, Prince Chrom. I apologise again for failing in my duties this morning."

Frederick shook his head. "We discussed this already. Sir Virion, Lady Tiki; our itinerary for today's meeting mostly discussed supply routes-"

Flavia grunted, muttering something about getting to the point. "We have enough stuff for all of you, and it gives us an excuse to break out the expensive whiskey. I still say you should let us do it."

Taking it in stride, Frederick continued, "-as well as scouting rotations, which led to the realization that no pegasus scouting patrols were sent out today. Shortly before Andrew and Marth arrived-"

"And I'm sending them a caravan from my city anyways," Basilio added smugly, "Special order. I told 'em to spare no expense, and get the best damn logistician they had, because I found your Quartermaster sleeping on a pile of inventory notes."

Absently, I wondered when Robin would realize she couldn't set her journal on fire without a fire tome. Tiki leaned over, murmuring, "So this is one of them, the woman next to you? I can smell Naga's magic all over her. Have you tried-"

"She wouldn't take stir fry when I offered," I replied just as quietly, tuning out Frederick's droning about logistics and Basilio's continually escalating interruptions, "I think she expected it to be poisoned."

"Did you try soup?" Tiki shot back, abruptly raising her voice again, "You should have asked me, Sir Frederick. I happen to have significant experience with refugees, though I fail to understand why they were discussed in this particular war council." Lowering her voice again, she smirked, "Admit it, she'd take the soup."

Lucina jerked her head towards us, frowning adorably. "Sir Frederick is _speaking!_ And I did not take the soup, Andrew knocked on my door at the stroke of midnight and-"

She stopped mid-sentence, which seemed to be a theme for her day, and blushed profusely. "Oh, forgive me, Lady Tiki. I overstepped my bounds, please continue."

"It was _good soup_ ," I sighed, sitting up straight, "Stahl thought so, at least. Anyways! When Frederick stopped talking a moment ago," I winked at Tiki, who smirked back, "He missed the bit where they're kicking me out. And here I was hoping I'd get to rack up a few m-more life-" I paused, wiping my eyes and taking a short breath. "A few more life-altering injuries and well-timed fainting episodes before the end, you know?"

_THUD._

Slamming her hand down on the table, Flavia threw the room into a dead silence. For a moment, she glared at us, lips twitching but her aura intimidating. "Ha!" Flavia barked, her head thrown back as she devolved into surprisingly soft giggles, "You are like children when the caretaker leaves. Now _this_ is good fun... but we should get back to the subject. Marth, you were about to tell us who Drych's master was."

Basilio, uncharacteristically quiet, smirked. "I think she was about to say something like 'It is not my-"

"It is not my place to say," Lucina sighed, shaking her head. Pausing, she blinked and looked at Basilio. "Pardon, Khan Basilio?"

"Drych's master?" Tiki hummed, leaning back in her chair and stretching, "Oh, that'd be Grima."

Chrom laced his fingers together, lips set in a tight line. Phila aged a decade in the space of a heartbeat, timeworn lines creasing her features. Frederick's grimace turned into a frown, and the whole room was brought to a dead silence.

Robin's head hit the table with a resonant _thud_ , and that quiet was broken by her long, pained groan. "The Fell Dragon," she said, voice muffled by the pages of her journal, "The ancient enemy, the dragon worshipped by the Grimleal. The _dead_ dragon, whose ribcage we saw earlier."

"It just so happens that he is only mostly dead," Tiki said sadly, "And quite unfortunately, that means he is alive in some sense."

I was utterly torn between laughing and crying. This was _fantastic_ \- I'd just watched a round robin of banter with Robin in it, and it was better than I could have dreamed. But it was the Shepherds, who I was no longer a part of. I went with pained chuckle, because Tiki had quoted a favorite movie of mine.

"As opposed to all dead, of course. With all dead, well, with all dead there's only one thing to do," I continued, wiping the tears off my face and massaging my throat.

Phila, looking a little pale, leaned forwards in her seat. "And what is that, Andrew?"

I may want to cry a little more when I look at her, but Phila had come through where it counted (without even realizing it). Holding my voice as steady as it could manage, I rolled my eyes and flourished my hands out in a small _well,_ _obviously_ sort of shrug. "Go through his clothes and look for loose change, of course."

It earned me a few chuckles- Tiki, Basilio, Flavia, and Virion, at least. Everyone else was looking at me like I'd grown a second head. Frankly, I don't know if I could put up with two of me either, so I hoped I hadn't done any growing today.

Chrom looked at me dead-on, lips twitching. "That's one way to do it," he chuckled, nodding to Frederick, "But... Grima. The Dragon my family is charged with slaying. Lady Tiki, you claim he's returned?"

Taking the hint, Frederick started writing down his own notes (Robin still hadn't lifted up her head).

Tiki clasped her hands and tilted her head. "Not entirely, as I said," she began, "There is certainly something _claiming_ to be the Fell Dragon that smells like he did when we last spoke a thousand years ago. Without a way to bring back his true, draconic form, he is barely strong enough to maintain a single Deadlord. I fought him shortly before I encountered the Shepherds, and in his current state I would dub him 'manageable'."

"So long as he has Drych, though," I muttered, "He's more than two handfuls of unmanageable."

"And what do we-" Phila broke down coughing, making the whole room wince with every shudder wracking her frame. "Frederick?" She forced out, wiping her mouth with a handkerchief.

It was enough to make me feel _awful_ , honestly. Good but awful- she was alive because of me, but she was _hurting_ because I just wasn't enough. Maybe she'd have to step out, and they'd wait on firing me? I shook my head; that was a nasty thing to wish.

"How do we _deal_ with this?" Robin barked, jerking upright and brushing ink-stained hair out of her firey-red eyes, "There is a Deadlord that can appear anywhere at any time, and we can't kill it. His master is _Grima_. And they're both looking for a bunch of people with intel we can't afford to lose. Oh, and there's a _war_ going on, which I also have to plan, and I'm obviously not qualified for because I can't even save my best friend's sister." Every word slammed down on her shoulders like a hammer blow, rippling through her thoughts and resonating with my own.

In the silence that followed, I looked to Lucina- she'd shrunk back into her seat, making herself as small as possible. Pity I didn't have much breakable heart left.

Chrom lay a hand across Robin's back, rubbing gently. "You're more than qualified, Robin," he said quietly, "It's okay. We're all going to do this together."

I think that's when I started crying, but it was silent, so I doubt anybody noticed. Except Tiki- she could probably smell it or something.

"Together," Virion echoed, letting out a long sigh. "Please, pardon my rudeness, friends. The lovely Commander Phila is looking quite out of sorts, and we have left Andrew in the gallows with a noose on his neck. Perhaps we could hurry this along?"

Chrom winced as Frederick sputtered. Still rubbing Robin's back gently, Chrom gave me the saddest smile I'd ever seen. "We really have, haven't we? I'm sorry, Andrew. This can't be easy on you- I promise we won't toss you out onto the streets."

"Aye, let's get a move on," Basilio thumped the table, "It's getting too much like those sappy plays Flavia says she doesn't watch."

"And you only know because you were _also_ watching it," Flavia grumbled, crossing her arms. Pushing a loose bit of blonde hair out of her face, she waggled a finger at me. "You there. Andrew. You want it simple, or do you want someone to ramble at you about politics and paperwork for half an hour?"

Sniffling, I pulled together what little mask I had left, calling upon the Duke. "Apology accepted, Chrom. Let's get it over with," I declared waveringly, "And then you can get to important things, like helping Marth's friends and winning this war."

"This never happened," Lucina whispered, entirely to herself, "He never left them, not this early."

Great. That was encouraging. At least I wasn't homeless.

Phila pushed herself to her feet, her knuckles white against the armrests. "Andrew, last name unknown, by-" She broke into coughs again, only staying up because Frederick rushed over to support her. Virion came in close second, but backed away when Phila glared.

"Commander, I can continue. I insist you visit the healers as soon as possible," Frederick said curtly, "Your current condition needs regular treatment."

"No, Frederick. If I'm-" Phila waved him off, coughing, "I was the one who pushed this. I can cope for the few minutes it takes to finish what I start."

I could respect that, at least. My hand wandered under the table- I needed something to hold. I found Tiki's hand, which squeezed mine comfortingly. Gods, I owed this woman too much, and she knew it. I'd have to make her so much soup.

With newfound strength, Phila squared her shoulders and gestured to me. "Andrew. If you are able, please rise."

Releasing Tiki's hand- "I owe you, Tiki," I murmured- it was easier than expected to pull myself up and level my gaze with Phila.

"Oh, he's taller than I thought," Flavia grinned, raising an eyebrow, "You said he was tall, Chrom, but I didn't realize _how_ tall."

"Thanks?" I shrugged, "Lay it on me, Ph- Commander Phila." Lay it on me before I break down, I'd rather not be the second emotional breakdown in a war council. Not nearly as fashionable as the first or as dramatic as the third.

"Andrew, of the Shepherds. By consensus of present commanding officers, we have found you unfit for service," Phila declared, each word tightening the barbed rope around my heart. It was like an anchor had been lashed to my thoughts- dragged deeper and deeper into a dull, aching darkness.

"Until such a time as your magecraft or martial prowess has reached acceptable standards," she continued, her words strangely distant, "Or your skills are required by the Shepherds..."

Please, gods, no. This has to be a nightmare. I thought I'd be able to stand up to this, be able to at least lose everything with dignity. I could feel the world dimming as it all came crashing down, sharp-edged glass trickling through frayed spiderwebs of hope and willpower.

"I hereby remove you from active duty."

And the world went dark-

 _No_.

I refused. Every damn time I'd lost, I'd fainted and left other people to put the pieces back together. I kept running away, and at long last, just like Drych had said, they'd gotten tired of it.

The knots around my heart throbbed, drinking deeply of my blood. It hurt, but rather than ignoring it- rather than running away- I could at least feel it. Use it to keep me standing.

Deep breaths, Andrew. Breathe in, pause, breathe out. Breathe in, pause, breathe out, and wait until the shuddering stops.

When I opened my eyes, the Duke was in my hands- pointed down and sheathed, supporting my weight like a cane. My masks, all weak glue and flimsy paper thoughts, were more than enough. All eyes were on me, but somehow I knew they weren't the ones holding me accountable right now. I could faint, I could run away, and nobody would judge me for it.

"I understand," I said softly, my voice cracking. "I'll do better."

Virion leaned over, lips pursed in a frown. "Andrew? Are you alright?"

"I-I think he's fainted again," Robin suggested, "I wouldn't blame him. I think his only friends are Shepherds."

"I understand," I declared, loudly this time. My voice filled the room, filled it with a presence I couldn't hope to match with any real strength. But I could try. "I'll do better. I promise. But until then, the least I can do is help Commander Phila get to the healers."

I heard Phila's acceptance and the council's platitudes dully, like the cheerful banter of someone else's friends heard through a wall. Meaningless, enviable, and distracting.

Hooking The Duke back onto my belt, I trudged over to the one who'd taken everything away from me. I looked her straight in the eyes, nodded silently, and said, "How do you want to do this?"

Phila grimaced. "Just stand next to me. I'm not an invalid."

"Fair enough," I forced a chuckle, looking back over the table and those sitting around it. "Hey, Tiki. Maybe we can chat over dinner?"

"Of course," Tiki smiled, "I do enjoy a good meal with friends."

And that would have to be enough, I supposed.

[][][][][][][][]

I spent the next few hours in a strange fog, lost halfway between heart-wrenching sadness and grim acceptance. Once I'd helped Phila walk to the healers, exchanging a few words with Maribelle along the way, ("It was the right decision, but to make it so tactlessly offends my sensibilities!") , I found myself sinking into a fur-trimmed chair back in the common room. Not my common room anymore, but I doubted anybody would care.

Andrew, the cowardly actor? Removed from active duty? Perish the thought. It'd be ridiculous for me to cry over something so obvious, but feelings don't care much for reason. So I cried a lot, and it felt pretty good. Gave me some time to work out my feelings, and I did my best to _not_ worry about what came next.

I was terrible at that, too, so I figured desk work for Ylisse wouldn't be too bad.

Sitting and thinking wasn't doing me any good, clearly. I found the tea set from the morning and started steeping myself a new batch: something herbal with a touch of citrus, though I couldn't place what herbs or citrus fruits were involved. It was pleasantly cathartic, and it was a way to get water back in my system after crying (and not drinking water) for the better part of the day.

Closing my eyes, I took a long, calming sip of tea. Yes, that was much better. I could feel it working its way through my system, teasing tension from my aching muscles and allowing me to sink further into the chair. A fire crackled merrily in the fireplace, dancing and frolicking in serpentine curls that drew me ever inward.

"I'm exhausted," I murmured to an open room, "Completely out of it."

It was the sort of tired where _feeling_ is numbed, rather than muscles- like watching the world through a screen. Distantly, it reminded me of how it felt to _play_ Fire Emblem: Awakening; how it felt to stay up late and watch numbers go up before marrying off soldiers that were all far better people than I (Except Henry and Tharja, probably).

I laughed at the thought, pausing to take another sip of tea.

My heart skipped several beats when two pegasus knights bolted through the common room, the clatter of metal lancing straight through the fog of my thoughts. What were they up to? Was something wrong?

Never mind that. Slumping back down into the chair, I smiled waveringly. "It doesn't involve me, not any more. So I can just sit here and- and-" I failed utterly to stifle a yawn, eyes drooping. It would be so easy to just... fall asleep.

And I did, I think.

[][][][][][][][]

When I next opened my eyes, it was to the subtle, calming sound of tea being poured into a cup.

"Ahh," a familiar voice sighed, content and ethereal, "A pleasant surprise. Bergamot, dried mint, and black tea leaves."

Sitting up in my chair, I kept my eyes trained on the fire, dancing teasingly over a pile of white stones. A loose pile of scrolls and books sat next to it, spread out over a plush red carpet and situated neatly by a mound of prismatic green pillows.

Drinking in the scent once again, I flicked myself on the nose. _Bergamot_. I always forgot about that one. "Bergamot," I paused, "Is that the orange-shaped lime or the lime-shaped orange? I could never get them straight."

The voice hummed. "An excellent question. I have no confidence or certainty on the truth, I fear; you must seek this answer yourself."

I'd given it about 50/50 on Naga or Tiki, but that sealed it. "So I'm back here again," I mused, "Orange-shaped lime sounds more right to me, but don't take my word for it. Why _am_ I here, actually?"

"You were never here, nor will you leave here. To the dreamer, there is little difference," Naga replied helpfully, "Now that it is found, the path may be walked without guidance."

Either I had been _way_ more out of it than I thought, or Naga was speaking nonsense again. Taking several minutes to digest her words, I took another sip of tea. "I see." I didn't see.

The silence stretched into eternity, as dreams sometimes do; bending in on itself as the fire faded and ignited itself for the first time, all in the span of a heartbeat.

"So there's got to be a reason I'm here," I concluded, watching Naga drink her fourth cup of tea. "It's not for you to comment on my life choices, or tell me I need to beg my way back into the Shepherds? I figured after that screw-up I wouldn't be worth your time."

"There are no words of comfort I can offer or words of penance I can extract, Andrew." Naga mused, turning languidly to face the fireplace. "No, you are here for your own reasons, and here with my blessing."

 _Would_ it make me feel better to be told I'd screwed up? Would it make me feel better to be told it's all okay? Or would either of those make me feel worse, maybe even afraid? I didn't know. "What do I do next, Naga? I'm not a Shepherd. I'm going to learn how to fight," I paused, running a hand along my left side, "Assuming my injuries let me. But that won't be enough. I need... something more."

Naga set down her teacup, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. Her hair shimmered and swirled, curling against her dress and trailing into glimmering embers of blue-green flame. Placing her hands on her thighs, she offered me a faint smile. "I believe you know the answer, Andrew. I cannot offer power without exacting a great cost, not in this state, and you do not truly seek it."

The answer was 'lots of hard work and feeling somewhat miserable,' but I'd been hoping for something else. "Yeah, you're right," I admitted hesitantly, "There are worse places to think about this, I suppose. These chairs are pretty comfy."

Tilting her head, Naga frowned. "It appears you are about to wake up."

"Pardon?" I blinked, "What do you-"

[][][][][][][][]

"-mean?" I finished, blinking blearily. The carpet was gone, the fire was... well, a pile of charcoal, but more importantly not made of rocks, and the chair was not quite as comfortable. I could hear some shouting in the distance, probably some evening drills for the soldiers. Maybe I should see if Frederick's fitness program was as good and as terrifying as everyone said it was- that could help me train, right?

"Ah. So I was," I shrugged, taking a sip of my _real_ bergamot tea, "Ah, damn, the tea's cold."

It was then that I realized the shouting was getting louder. Much louder.

I had the distinct feeling I'd missed something important. Probably had to do with the pegasus knights who'd... run past me. Right. Hadn't Virion sent out some pegasus knights as _scouts_? I should probably go find someone to ask about that.

My halfhearted attempt to get out of the chair ended when I heard armored footsteps echoing out from one of the entrances to the room. If I remembered right, that side connected to the stairs, which in turn led to the battlements (which had an amazing view of the sunrise). Excellent, they'd explain what was-

"You know the drill, Hirsch," a gruff voice grunted, "Go in quiet-like, pick off any stragglers you can find, and _get rid of those archers_."

Well technically that _did_ count as an explanation. I'd best be on my way, before they popped into the room and decided that 'as good as dead' wasn't enough for me. Carefully and quietly, I stood up, picking up the Duke and hooking it back onto my belt.

It was time to run away.

Walking up towards the door, knowing full well they could burst out of it at any moment, I closed my eyes and shifted my stance. Square shoulders, posture loose, right side pointed towards the enemy.

The door rattled, muffled cursing drifting through it. I drew the Duke from its sheathe, testing its weight as the world faded away around me. This was my last chance to run away.

When my eyes opened again, it was too late for any of that.

Good.

[][][][][][][][]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bergamot are lime-colored citrus fruits that are roughly the size and shape of an orange, but with a little tapering on one end. It's actually what gives Earl Grey that distinct smell and taste! I don't really suggest eating them raw.


	25. To the Sticking Place

First things first: Let it be known that I went into battle with a doctor's note and a clean(ish) bill of health. Sure, the doctor's note was just Maribelle inviting me over for tea tomorrow morning, and _maybe_ Libra had only cleared me for "walking and perhaps short bursts of running." Essentially the same thing as blanket approval to fight assassins, so long as I made it to my 6 o'clock tomorrow and didn't do any running in the process.

Did I mention I was terrified? At the time, I decided not to mention it to myself, because frankly there was too much going on in there already without me getting involved.

Changing my train of thought before it reached its inevitable conclusion, I focused on the _problem_ coming through the door- two men, single file, each with daggers and crossbows. Probably an advance group, two assassins meant to wreak a little chaos. Speaking of the door, my engineering and design knowledge finally came in handy! Looking at it quickly, it was roughly wide enough to fit one and a half people- no doubt intended to only let one person through at once, a chokepoint to make this fort even _harder_ to breach. And I'd need to use that to its fullest if I planned to live. Despite my earlier confidence, I was more than aware that committing to this was probably not a great idea.

At that point one of the assassins quite helpfully allowed me to _stop panicking_ by trying to stab me. An excellent distraction from _oh gods I'm_ _ **going to die**_ _this is a stupid plan._ Before I could worry about that, though, I had to quite hastily de-rust my swordsmanship and give it a trial by (hopefully metaphorical) fire.

With only my right side facing the entrance and with minimal room outside my reach to work with, the assassin had elected to leap to the side and hook around, winding his dagger back for a slash at my midsection. Twisting my wrist, I turned the Duke flat and parallel to the ground, pommel pointed towards the door (and, I noted, towards the second assassin, who was about to slip through). Just as the Assassin closed in, I brought the tip down and slashed upwards, forcing the Assassin to dance backwards. He bit out a curse, reversing the dagger in his grip before diving back in again. "Tch, of course," he muttered.

Steadying myself, I spared a glance at the door- _damn_. The moment I moved for a thrust, which was my original plan, I'd give him enough space to actually get through the door and corner me. And given they were both lightly armored, a single hit wouldn't be enough to kill or even slow one of them down. Which meant- _no time, Andrew, focus._

Gritting my teeth, I brought the Duke down into a two-handed grip before pivoting on my right heel. The pivot, which sent lances of pain outwards from my midsection, left me with my back to the door... which would have been dumb, if I hadn't been able to transfer the momentum into an awkward and unsteady kick to force the door closed. _That_ move made my leg ache, because of _course_ I had to kick with the one Drych had broken.

Hey, I hadn't done any running yet, so Libra couldn't complain.

Judging by the cursing, I'd closed the door correctly. Mentally making a note to _never_ try that again, I turned my attention back to the first Assassin just in time to manage a hasty block. I was at the disadvantage here- back to a door that was going to open shortly, fighting an opponent at close range when I had a sword that preferred enemies to be a bit further away.

Being _aware_ of this did not mean I knew enough to do anything about it. So, as the Assassin pulled his dagger back just enough for it to slide off my blade, I pushed forwards, stepped sideways, and- realized it wasn't going to work, because he was still capable of hitting me.

Pain, thought-shattering and mind-clearing, rippled outwards from the tip of his dagger as it traced a line across my midsection. Spreading like ink in water, the pain amplified my senses before drowning them in the dull roar of my heartbeat. The Assassin grinned. "No armor, huh?" he snickered, coming in for another slash as I staggered back.

Remembering I had a sword in my hands, I brought it around in a broad sweep that flowed into a forward thrust. He dodged the slash, unsurprisingly, dancing backwards as he had before. The thrust, though, had a lot more _oomph_ to it thanks to a lunge- beyond just stretching my various injuries unpleasantly, bringing my right leg forward and extending its reach allowed me to score a hit just below the ribcage. After a heartbeat of resistance, the Duke sunk through the hardened leather with ease and slipped into the flesh below it. Maybe I could have ended it then and there, but as it was I'd overextended and I needed to pull back.

"Ach!" he cursed, one hand lurching towards the hole, "Oh, you'll _pay_ for that," he warned me, "Gonna enjoy this."

"You were going to kill me anyways," I grumbled, flicking crimson drops from the tip of the Duke. The air around it hummed with the motion, and with a bit more flourish than needed, I brought the sword up for the next strike.

Every part of my body was _screaming_ at me- the bleeding wound on my chest, the scar on my midsection (Javelins tended to leave those), and the not-quite-fixed bits of my left leg were already oozing fatigue into my system. I had to finish this fast, not that it was much of a surprise. The longer this went on, the more likely it was my incompetence would catch up with me.

I'd been booted from the Shepherds for a reason. So, I realized with a halfhearted smirk, the _obvious_ solution was to get this done as quickly as possible. Without running.

Then, I was out of time to think- it was time to _move._ Once again, the Assassin initiated, lunging forwards with the dagger drawn back as their other hand went to their waist. I sidestepped, gritting my teeth as the dagger's edge nicked a rib on my left side. Even so, it was a terrible move on his part; with a hasty switch to a one-handed grip, I was able to slam the pommel of The Duke straight into his shoulder. Steel met bone with predictable and sickening results, but before the _crack_ of bone had left my ears, I was bringing up my free hand to shove him backwards.

All at once, the aches and pains in my body vanished. Probably not a good sign, but also not the time to think about it. Now that the Assassin was where I wanted him, I could leverage my height and range advantage, finish this one off, and hopefully get the jump on the second guy.

Bringing the Duke back down into a two-handed grip (ew, blood), I took a half step forward and started swinging. He deflected each and every one of them, dancing through my strikes and redirecting them with quick flicks of the wrist. "You've already lost, y' fool," he growled, "Just lay down and d- _hurk!_ "

Cutting off my haphazard swings (and wincing at the dull throbbing in my arms), I'd gone in for another lunge; once again, he wasn't ready for it.

This time, though, I watched as the Duke's tip sank through his armor, _felt_ the tremor when it nicked a bone in his ribs. Not perfect aim, but good enough to kill. Stumbling backwards off my blade, the Assassin dropped to the ground like a bag of rocks. Two daggers, both stained crimson, clattered to the floor.

"Don't-" I halted, shaking my head and blinking as a wave of nausea overtook me. It warped my sight, darkening it at the fringes before sinking down to prod at my stomach. "Don't- agh. I don't know what you mean," I lied to the corpse, doing my best not to look at the blood, "I feel just fine."

I heard the creaking of wood and metal behind me. Sounds like the second Assassin was right on time, in the worst way possible. Time to improvise.

Looking at the corpse carefully, I frowned. I counted the daggers, noted the blood, and a hand crept to my midsection. "Ah. So that's what you meant," I said through gritted teeth, "Oh, that's _deep_ , isn't it." It felt like the spotlight had been put on me- this was the scene before the curtains closed on the second act.

As the pain returned- as _all_ my pain returned, I groaned and let myself slump. My knees hit the floor, thudding more heavily than I'd intended. Darkness crept in from the edges of the world, bleeding as I bled from... somewhere. "Gah," I groaned, arms trembling as I planted them on the ground. "No, no, I can't-" I continued, mumbling now as I struggled to push myself up. I took a long, ragged breath, grimacing as footsteps thudded closer.

For the second time that day (to imagine, I had been fired just a few hours ago!) I found myself fading, flickering like a candle in the wind. _This is not the end_ , my heart echoed, buried deep beneath my numbing thoughts, _Just hold out a bit longer._ I dug deeper and deeper, searching for that strength that guided me to draw my sword- _No, not yet_.

The candle was sputtering, burned too close to the stump. The irony wasn't lost on me: the incompetence that made me run away could get me killed. My breath hitched, caught between a sob and a pained laugh. Hopefully the other Assassin would go for a clean kill. I could see their boots at the fringes of my vision, just out of reach. Bringing one leg up and forward, I turned my slump into something resembling a kneel. Taking a steadying, shuddering breath, I looked up at my would-be killer.

He took a small step forward. "Any last words, _filth_?" he spat, "And don't even think about screaming."

"No plans," I groaned, putting a hand to my side to staunch the bleeding properly. "No plans to. Just one question, actually."

Looking at me for a moment, the Assassin shook his head, raising a short-sword and twirling it in his hand. "No."

"Pity," I sighed, tightening my grip on the Duke. "I'll ask anyways-"

The sword came down.

 _Now!_ Levering myself up from a kneel, I drove the Duke upwards through his chest, stopping only when I felt the tip catch on what I assumed to be his spine.

I flashed a weak grin, nearly vomiting at the look of agonized horror on his face. "How's my acting?"

Don't get me wrong, I was still terrified for my life. Just _standing_ was exhausting- I had no chance of killing him without a little trickery. And, I grimaced, method acting was my best shot at pulling it off. It paid off, sure, but it bled into my already fragile emotional state.

That sounded about as strange as I felt. Pulling the Duke out of the Assassin's innards, I took a deep breath- jasmine, huh- and collected my thoughts. Lists sounded pretty nice right about now.

"Alright, let's review," I said aloud, because the inside of my head was a bit too crowded, "Killed two people. Feel like vomiting, probably will. Great stuff. Upside," I chuckled, wincing as the stab wound made itself known, "I'm alive."

I couldn't begin to guess how much longer I had- right, the bleeding. Idiot. _Come on, Andrew, come on_ , I chided myself, sheathing the Duke. "And this is why I'm not a Shepherd," I sighed, quickly removing my hand from the wound so I could tear the bottom of my tunic. It gave more easily than expected, tearing with a satisfying _rrrrip_.

Now that I had a 'bandage', I bent down again (gods, that hurt) to salvage some scrap cloth from the two people I'd just killed. I had a feeling that'd bother me once this adrenaline wore off, assuming I didn't die of blood loss first.

The first one I'd killed had a blue handkerchief stuck in his pocket. Wincing, I pulled it out, smelled it (lavender), and sat back away from the bloodstains. Bile built in the back of my throat as I lifted my tunic, revealing the new wounds _and_ the scar from being run through by a javelin. Not pretty, let me tell you- a nasty splotch of red and white that radiated outwards from my left side, just under the ribs. I did my best not to think about it.

Pressing the handkerchief and one end of the bandage up against the wound, I carefully wrapped around, stretching it and tying it tight. Not too tight, hopefully.

Rolling onto my back, I stared up at the ceiling. Why was it wobbling so much? Ceilings don't wobble. Or wiggle, or warp, or any other number of w-words I could think of. Maybe I was just woozy, but the wordplay made me chuckle. "Gods, this was a _terrible_ idea," I said aloud to myself, "Nearly got myself killed. Would've made sense to just barricade the door and run. Wait, _does_ the door barricade?"

After several failed attempts, I managed to push myself up so I could look at the door. Now if it would just. Stop. _Moving_! Furrowing my brow, I squinted until the door stabilized. "Okay, no, it doesn't barricade. What the hell?"

The door wobbled again. Blinking, I looked at it more carefully.

No, the door wasn't wobbling, it was _rattling_. Great. Pulling myself up against a wall, I pressed a hand against my makeshift bandage. I doubted I was even capable of _running_ much of anywhere at that moment, and frankly I should have run to begin with. That thought took root, an inkling of regret that wormed its way into my thoughts. Suffering through a lecture from Libra is better than dying, if only slightly.

The moment another Assassin opened the door- wait, no, this guy was _way_ too armored for an Assassin, how the hell had he gotten up on the wall? Anyways, the moment I saw someone come in that I definitely didn't recognize, I dropped my posture further and did my best to play dead. That meant having my head pointed _away_ , because according to a director I'd worked under, the hardest thing to fake is a dead face.

I was shocked he didn't call the ruse immediately- my heart was beating against its confines like a frantic bird in a cage. Loud enough to drown out everything else, loud enough to get me killed. Logically, I knew that hearts didn't work like that, but logic was taking a back seat to panic and pain.

Staring intently at the ground, I held myself as still as possible as the soldier paced through the room. "Gods..." the soldier cursed, "There goes the forward team. Shoulda waited, I told 'em."

And here he was on his own? That didn't make much sense.

Then the door opened again, followed by a _thud_ as wood hit stone. "Stop right- oh, Andrew..." a woman said softly, "Stop right there!"

Cordelia, from the timbre and faint lilt. Her voice was rough, ragged at the fringes from exertion- but there was no weakness beneath it, only steel and strength. She'd be fine; no need to drop the act for now. I'd just distract her. I had to reign in my reflexes when the sound of clashing steel rolled against my ears, push against every sane thought demanding I run. I'd just get in the way, or worse, killed.

"Red, they're right behind us!" another voice added, clipped. "Does this door barric- _why doesn't this door have a barricade_?"

"I noticed!" Cordelia shouted back, "If it did, Andrew would've done it, and..." she cursed, cut off by another clash of steel. "And stop calling me Red!"

"Duds is _dead_?" Gaius sputtered out, "Put up one hell of a fight, though. Is that guy disemboweled?"

"Not the time for this, Gaius!" Cordelia barked, "He's either dead or unconscious, and I _know_ you didn't take any Vulneraries."

Any further conversation was drowned out by shouting, clattering, and more sets of armored footsteps than I could keep track of. Gaius cursed quite creatively, but at least it sounded like they were _alive_. Peeking out of the corner of my eyes, I finally was able to drink in the scene. It wasn't pretty, but that was just because of the corpses.

Cordelia and Gaius were surrounded by maybe eight soldiers, their flanks guarded by two chairs. Clever- wouldn't call it genius, Cordelia disliked the word. As it was, they were holding off the attacking soldiers with care and efficiency: Gaius was nearly a blur of steel and sugar, dodging everything and stabbing back... at everything. Cordelia kept them at a distance with her lance, each swing and thrust leaving the soldiers without an opportunity to respond.

 _This_ is what they wanted in a Shepherd. Not me.

Calming my heartbeat, I drew a long, slow breath from the blood-scented air. My stomach lurched in response, and it took all I had to keep it down. Wouldn't do to draw the attention of the soldiers when I was in such a vulnerable position. That didn't do great things for my heart rate, so I risked another calming breath, risked the metallic tang of blood-

-Jasmine? Was that jasmine?

As I watched, the stone floor _sharpened_ , more vivid and somehow stretching beyond its confines. And yet, I could still hear the battle, I could still _see_ the fighting in the corner of my eye. "Am I really that far gone?" I _thought_ more than whispered, voice resonating and amplifying without a hint of echo. Murk crept in at the edges of my thoughts, thick and oily as it grasped at every stray impulse.

"It is odd to receive a visit so soon after the last; stranger still to espy a visitor caught upon the doorstep," a now _very_ familiar voice responded, whispering in my ear from far away. "Soon, you will find your way out, and find your way back to where you are."

I felt a headache coming on, even through the fog.

"Um, thanks?" I replied, somewhat baffled, "Not..." I paused to cough, wincing as pain lanced outwards from my various wounds. "That's new, I guess. Hi, Naga. You caught me at something of a bad moment."

"Indeed I have. Would you like assistance?" Naga asked in return. Distantly, I heard the _clink_ of ceramic, and a hum of satisfaction to follow it. "What or who is Earl Grey?"

Eyeing one of the soldiers, who was limping away from the fight- and towards me- I nodded carefully. "Yes, I'd like some help. Um," I paused, pushing through the murk in my mind, "Earl Grey is from _my_ world. It has Bergamot in it, I think. The fruit we talked about last time."

The air went cold, clamming up into a wet fog against my skin."Thus the exchange is made," Naga declared softly, "So mote it be."

I blinked. "Wait, was that the ' _cost_ ' thing you talked about last time?"

"Not so dead after all, huh," a soldier hissed, only a pace away. One gauntleted hand was brought up against his side, crimson staining the fringes of his fingers. In the other hand, he had a fairly normal, if scratched, sword. He loomed over me, leaning heavily on one foot, grimacing and decidedly _not happy_.

The world, I noted absently, had gone back to normal levels of weirdness. I could deal with that. Well, if it worked once... improve, and do it again. Either way, this was going to suck, and I was going to throw up _very soon_. Grimacing, I lurched my head up to look the soldier in the eyes. One hand trailed to my side, resting near the grip of my sword. "Barely," I croaked, resolving to ask for the _good_ herbal teas when I saw Maribelle, "Your friends did a number on me."

"Did a whatta?" the soldier blinked, raising his sword, "Whatever. Y' gonna die!"

There might be a _science_ to this, even. Sliding down (and banging my head in the process), I kicked the shin he was putting his weight on and sent him toppling. Rolling out of the way (and banging my head _again_ ) I pulled the Duke out of its sheathe, ready to plant it in the back of his neck-

Gods. Wouldn't even be the first time I'd killed _today_ , but this seemed... worse, somehow. Faces of the dead settled strangely in my mind, waiting for my next nightmare. But I couldn't just leave him- that much was obvious.

I'd waited too long. A gauntleted hand closed around my ankle, squeezing _hard_. Spitting out a curse, the soldier tugged at my leg, pushing himself up with his other hand, "Behind-" he forced out, voice clearly audible even through the clatter of steel.

Biting back a curse (and biting _down_ on my lip), I slid the Duke through the back of the soldier's neck. With a strangled yell, he went limp, dropping like a puppet from cut strings. Doing my best to push away the disgust, I rolled my neck and smiled weakly towards Gaius and Cordelia. Well, I smiled towards the greyish smear of soldiers surrounding Gaius and Cordelia, because everything was a bit blurry and wobbly.

The orange-topped blob moved a bit, resolving into something vaguely Gaius-shaped. That was mostly thanks to the contrast with Cordelia's long red hair, which at the very least told me she was facing the other way. "Ha! Duds is alive. I knew it, Red!"

"I don't appreciate the nickname, Gaius! You still haven't returned the supplies you stole last month," Cordelia interrupted, her voice catching, "Andrew's _alive_? I thought with all the blood, and only hours after he was..."

"Betcha don't even remember what I took," Gaius sniped back, knocking a soldier's sword aside with minimal concern, "He's lookin' a little woozy though. You good?"

Grimacing, I pulled the Duke out of the soldier's neck, squaring my shoulders. My vision returned fully, resolving the Gaius and Cordelia-shaped objects back into Gaius and Cordelia, respectively. "All considered," I grunted, "I'm doing fine."

I'd gotten lucky- none of the soldiers had registered their dying comrade's shout. But talking had exhausted that luck, because people _had ears_ and could hear when Gaius started shouting at someone. Consequently, one of the soldiers backed away, pivoting towards me and hefting his sword.

"A little _less_ fine now," I amended, glancing at the door leading further into the fort, "I'll go get reinforcements." Assuming he kept walking, I could get myself over to the door and maybe slide on out while I fenced with the soldier. Distantly, I heard Cordelia listing off various food items, complete with exact weights. Guess Gaius didn't know Cordelia _that_ well, if he'd bet on Cordelia forgetting something.

The soldier (who still had ears, much to my chagrin) then employed his _brain_ to reason that I should be stopped. He broke into a sprint, charging towards me. Well, hopefully Libra wouldn't be too mad...

"If Libra asks, I had no choice!" I shouted, breaking into a staggering run towards the door. Thanks to my leg and the stab wound, it was _much_ slower than I would've liked; once I realized how loud the soldiers footsteps were, I gave up on running and spun around. Halfway through the spin, I realized I could turn this into an attack. Too late for that, but maybe next time.

Taking a hasty step back to avoid being slashed across the chest, I responded with a jab in the general direction of my opponent's torso. The Duke skittered off the _metal_ chestplate, screeching loudly and leaving a long scratch to mark its path.

Even so, the thrust was a terrible idea, leaving me open as my arm went wide. I was forced to take _another_ step back. Not good. I had maybe two more of those before my back was against the door, at which point I had no hope of opening it. Unless it opened outwards, but I couldn't for the life of me remember that detail.

All that thought took maybe a heartbeat, and that was a heartbeat too long. Clenching my teeth as the cold iron blade nicked my arm, I took a closer look at my opponent: dingy but sturdy metal armor, held up by straps around the shoul-

 _Oh right I'm fighting right now_.

Bringing up the Duke to block a wide slash, I shook my head clear of the fog and looked my opponent in the eyes. "Say, are you the Plegian Army?" I asked casually, keeping as much strain as possible out of my voice. A plan started to form, and with nothing better to go on, I used that.

"You an idiot?" the man grunted, "Course we're the Plegian Army." As he spoke, he leaned further into our clash, forcing me back half a step. Only one and a half paces left, then.

"Hey Gaius, why the hell is the _Plegian Army_ here?" I shouted, not looking away from my opponent. Carefully adjusting my hands, I switched to a one-handed grip- accepting the loss as he forced me backwards a pace- and pressed it up against the spine of the Duke. Grunting with the strain, I slid my hand up the Duke and levered my opponent's blade _down_. All the while, I angled the Duke's edge towards his collarbone- a spot only covered with leather padding.

Taking a full step forward, my leg planted between his, I slammed the Duke downwards, embedding it into his shoulder. His sword skittered to the side, just barely missing my leg. The whole motion took less than half a second, and earned me a long cut across the middle of my hand.

It was kind of nostalgic, morbidly- back on Earth, I'd used my height advantage countless times to win fights I really shouldn't have. That's not why I quit HEMA; it was more the fact that I kept getting too bruised up to pay attention in classes the next day. One might read that and wonder why I got so many bruises.

As I recuperated from the blow, jerking the Duke out of the soldier's shoulder, he swung his free elbow up and into my stomach. The strike rolled out like a chain of dominos- reminding my body precisely how _much_ pain I should be in. Gritting my teeth, the taste of blood filled my mouth and escaped as an agonized hiss.

I staggered backwards, ramming into the cold wood and hard metal of the door. My joints turned to jelly; elbows slamming limply against the door as I struggled to keep myself upright. There was no _choice_ but to remain standing- I couldn't see myself fooling _three_ people in a row, and this one didn't look like he'd be patient.

My opponent wasn't in good shape either, though. His lips were curled into a feral snarl, sword held tightly in one hand as he swung at me again.

By the time I was able to block his swing, it was bare inches from my shoulder.

No more playing around, it seemed. The moment our blades met, he was pulling away, winding up for another swing.

 _Clang_. My arms trembled, shuddering from fatigue and fear alike.

 _Clang._ Sharp senses did nothing for a sluggish body, trapped in a fog of exhaustion. Behind my executioner, the world was naught but a blur of silver, red, and orange.

 _Clang_. One hand dropped numbly from the Duke's grip, leaving the other to twist strangely under the force of the blow. "P-please," I sputtered, out, voice shaken and small, "I don't want to die."

My plea landed on deaf ears, sound half-muffled by ragged breathing. I hadn't shown mercy to his comrades, so why would he show any for me?

 _Clang_. The blade's edge slid across my shoulder painlessly- I only knew it happened from how _cold_ it felt. So this was it, then?

 _Clang_. Not quite. I was able to block this one, transferring the weight of the blow through the blade, down my arm, and into the wood.

The Duke slipped from my fingers, clinging for a heartbeat before falling to the ground.

No more tricks. No more _Andrew_.

I waited for the end, regrets pressing in-

But the end never came. The soldier slumped to the ground, tossed aside to reveal my savior: Gaius, with a knife stained crimson. "I was thinking Wedge, 'cos I saw Sully kick a door hard enough to wedge it open. What d'you think?"

Blinking, I rolled Gaius' words over in my mouth, furrowing my brow. "What?"

Gaius rolled his eyes, leaning over to pick up the Duke. Testing its weight, he raised an eyebrow and nodded approvingly. "Nice sword, Duds. We never came up with a name for Sully, remember?" Flourishing the Duke, Gaius lost his grip and dropped the Duke back onto the ground. Cursing to himself, he pulled a lollipop out of... somewhere... before sticking it in his mouth.

"Bwuh," I replied eloquently, half-torn between laughing and crying. Laughing through a choked sob, I shook my head. Tension eased from my shoulders as I knelt (ow), picking up the Duke so I could properly sheathe it. "Wedge is a bit of a stretch, if you ask me."

"Damn," he cursed, resting his hands on his hips, "Thought I had it with that one."

"Gaius," Cordelia said testily, pushing the candy thief aside. Her red eyes bored into me, glancing at every inch of my frame before letting her shoulders relax. "You've been sent to Maribelle _three times_ for training in field medicine, and I _will_ make it a fourth after this. Andrew here hasn't had it _once_! And his wound is _properly bandaged_ , though I should have packed some ban-" she stopped suddenly, shaking her head. Breathing in sharply through her nose, she closed her eyes for a second. "Right," she continued, sticking a hand into the satchel by her side, "Step one. Andrew, are you conscious?"

Rolling his eyes, Gaius let out a sigh and waved his hand sideways. "I'll go get a Vulnerary. Take the main way down, so I can meet you if you start moving towards the healers."

Oh yeah, I was in front of the door. Sidling over to let Gaius through (it didn't hurt that much), I looked back to Cordelia.

Two fingers pressed themselves against the side of my neck, drawing an awkward yelp from my throat. "I'm conscious!" I said quickly, "No need to check!"

"I _know_ that," Cordelia replied tersely, counting under her breath. "Your heartbeat seems fine. Elevated, but acceptable. Thank you, Gaius. Andrew, I see a couple cuts and a bandaged wound. How deep is that stab wound? Do you have any other injuries?"

"No idea how deep it is, and I was elbowed in the stomach by somebody wearing metal armor, so there's a nasty bruise around there. No broken ribs, I think," I listed off, wincing as Cordelia prodded me near the stab wound. "Is that _really_ necessary?"

"Absolutely," Cordelia nodded, lifting my tunic and peeling back the makeshift bandage. She turned slightly green, biting her lip before glancing up at me. "That's the scar from the Deadlord, isn't it? Maribelle and Lissa did some impressive work," pausing, she wrapped her arms partially around my waist, stopping when her fingers hit the wall. "Could you step away from the wall so I can re-wrap the wound?"

"Uh, of course," I replied, cheeks flushing red, "Just feeling a little bit of déjà vu."

One one hand: being hugged by an attractive woman. I'd always had a thing for red hair, and Cordelia did have _a lot_ of red hair.

On the other: armored, and Cordelia really didn't realize what she was doing.

"Déjà vu?" she sounded out, voice muffled by one end of the bandage, "What's that? Sounds Roseannean, like one of those- um, technical manuals I have from there."

A technical manual in cheesy romance, no doubt. "Déjà vu," I started, carefully repeating it syllable-by-syllable for her sake, "Means 'already seen'. In this case, you've already hugged me by accident in the past."

"Ah!" she squeaked, shaking her head and tightening the bandage, "Oh no! I'm- well, I'm not _sorry_ , but I should have asked." Once she was finished, she hastily stepped away.

"It's fine, it's fine," I waved off, wincing as I looked towards the door. "I absolutely don't mind being hugged by pretty women. Crud, did I say that out loud? It's not a lie, I don't mind at all, and... I need to stop talking." I shut my mouth with a _clack_ , cheeks burning as Cordelia covered her mouth to laugh.

"No harm done. Everyone already heard you that one time in the mess tent, and I heard it from Sumia. But I'm not, um," she looked down, "Not, you know, interested. N-not that I thought you were!" Cordelia shook her head furiously, "No offense."

I held back a laugh- I doubted my stomach could take it. "None taken, again. How about we just, um, head towards the healers?"

"Good idea. I'll barricade the door behind us, because _that_ door barricades for sure. I saw the wooden bar in the hallway," Cordelia readily agreed, moving towards the door, "Can you support yourself while I do that?"

"I'll be fine. Wouldn't mind having a shoulder to lean on once we run into some stairs, though."

And just like that, all the tension escaped me- fleeing to parts unknown, replaced by a warm (if pained) calm. I'd done it. I was through the battle, and I hadn't run away.

Despite it all, I didn't regret a thing.

I did have a few questions, though. "Actually," I hummed, stepping through the door and resting my weight on the wall, "Gaius never answered my question. Is the Plegian Army really here?"

Looking at me oddly, Cordelia furrowed her brow and pursed her lip, closing the door behind us. "Is the Plegian Army..." blinking, she tilted her head. "Yes. Didn't you hear? We're being besieged by Gangrel's men."

Working my jaw, I nodded sagely. "I slept through that part, it seems. Worked out alright, at least."

And then I had to brush my worries aside- it's really hard to walk down stairs when you're injured and leaning on a shorter person's shoulder. At least I hadn't ended the battle unconscious, because I was not a fan of that particular trend.

[][][][][][][][]


	26. Between a Dragon and Her Thoughts

()()Tiki()()

My comrades met battle with great force, and perhaps great enthusiasm. We held the line against wave after wave of Plegian soldiers, watching the shadows of their corpses lengthen as the Sun passed its apex. The world was a clamour of strife, steel, and shouting that saw no end, clattering against my ears like hammer blows. It was something I did not miss- and yet...

It was thrilling to be back, after so many years. Not amongst my old comrades, long passed save for my memory, but _here_ , sailing against a sea of moments that defined a human generation. Under the command of a clever tactician and noble ruler, our goals a beacon lit under our hearts.

Vaike buried his axe through a soldier's shoulder, cleaving a hole in the Plegian defenses. With a shout, he called Sully forward to widen the gap. She answered wordlessly, her lance a macabre wedge through the rows of soldiers. We charged. _I_ charged. By the time their commanders rallied, forming a new defensive line, we'd forced them back two paces. Somewhere else, the Ylissean or Feroxi line would break, and we would lose two paces in turn.

It was easy to remember why I stepped away from this life. My heart sung a hymn of battle, beastly and joyous; it ate away at my strength bit by bit. Fatigue crept in from the fringes.

Without my true might as a Dragon to rely upon, the cure for such exhaustion was simple: I could sleep, or I could meditate. Bantu's words, as always, echoed in my thoughts: _Focus, child. Clear your mind of base instinct._

I managed a wry, fanged smile even as I let the Shepherds advance without me. "Ah, Ban-ban," I hummed softly, "But I could never sit _still_!"

"Ban who?"

My body tensed, one hand curling around my axe as I turned to face the speaker. Gaius, I recalled his name being- a carrot-haired thief with fingers stickier than the candy he pocketed. The man flinched when I made eye contact, but held his ground admirably.

Closing my eyes, I let out a long, fire-tinged breath. "Ban-ban," I replied, lips curling into a less fearsome smirk, "An affectionate name for someone I fear is long gone... but it does little good to talk ancient history in the heat of battle," I stopped for breath, looking back towards the Feroxi fort that was our bastion. Placing two fingers against the side of my neck, I counted the seconds, then brought that same hand down to my heart. "It seems, though, that my time in battle is at an end. Could you perhaps direct me towards our tactician?"

"Uh," Gaius muttered, fiddling with some sort of candy attached to the end of a stick, "I think she's up a floor?"

Someone shouted, and the flow of battle changed around us. Scratching his chin, Gaius shrugged. "She's not on the ground floor, I think. Didn't see her there, and she likes having a good view of-"

Waving a hand, I stepped aside to let a cluster of soldiers slip past us. "Gaius," I said, raising an eyebrow as I turned towards the fort, "Were you not supposed to meet with her before the battle began?"

Huffing, Gaius crossed his arms and started to slink in the direction of the fort. "Look, maybe I was busy, alright? I'll go see her right now, with you. Plus, I was doing something else she wanted me to do."

"Fair enough," I shrugged, slipping through the press of bodies as we made our way towards the fort. "I take it you are not allowed to elaborate?"

He pulled the hard candy out of his mouth with an audible _pop_ , though perhaps only to my ears, and chuckled. "Heh, got it in one, lady. Nothin' special, don't worry about it, just some business Bubbles'd rather keep secret."

Bubbles, hm? What a curious name for Robin.

()()()()()()

The second floor had turned out to be some form of intermediary healing area, for soldiers who only needed a burst of Heal or sip from a Vulnerary. A small pile of crumpled papers meant Robin had been present recently, which was more than enough for Gaius to declare victory.

We finally located Robin when we clambered up the stairs to the third floor of the fort. The Shepherd's Tactician scurried around a large table, shouting orders to nearby soldiers and gesturing wildly with ink-stained fingers. Phila- that was the name of the Wing Commander, yes?- sat at one of the two chairs in the room, inspecting maps with war-weary eyes.

"Phila- er, Commander Phila," Robin barked, voice clipped as she skidded to a stop, "I'm rethinking that flanking maneuver from earlier. Every time I look outside, it's not our _flanks_ that need help, it's our center line... of course. Fourth company's the one that has more veteran armored soldiers, right. How quickly do you think I could swap the fourth and second companies?"

"Without intervention," Phila replied, voice strained as she reached across the table to point at something, "The captains could manage it in five, perhaps four minutes. Which would leave the center weak to a rout-"

"Yes, I figured that," Robin interrupted, scurrying over to one of the arrow slits as we slowly approached the table, "I think... hm. You there! Tell the first, second, third, and fourth company captains to shift outwards, and make _sure_ you have Kellam and the backline defenders fill the gap. Fourth company will swing back around and fill the gap, taking over for Kellam and the backline defense. Have our archers focus fire on that point, if possible, but _keep an eye on those Wyverns!_ Where do they keep coming from?"

The soldier Robin had been pointing at nodded, moving swiftly past us and down the stairs, mouthing Robin's instructions as he went.

"Plegia's Wyvern corps is based further west than our campaign took us," Phila answered quickly- too quickly. She broke into a fit of coughs, each one making Robin wince or twitch slightly. "Naga damn them. They'll be a thorn in our sides until we put an end to this war."

"From what I observed outside," I broached carefully, smirking as Robin jumped, "I take it we are unable to deploy the Pegasus Knights until the Wyverns are dealt with?"

Gaius snickered, earning a glare from Phila. He ignored it with practiced ease, slinking over to whisper something in Robin's ear.

While Robin collected herself, I paced over to where Commander Phila was sitting. Leaning over to inspect the map, I quickly recalled why I had never led an army personally. The mess of wooden blocks, arrows, and notes was worse than a foreign language to me- utterly incomprehensible.

"Excellent, Gaius. Can you run up and see how the archers and artillery mages are doing? I need a report on those Wyverns," she said, nodding as Gaius dashed away. The moment she turned towards me, though, she was wringing her hands and looking at the ground. "L-lady Tiki! You're here. Um," Robin brushed herself off, running an ink-stained hand through increasingly black hair. "I thought you'd still be out there with the forward teams. Is something wrong?"

Nothing was _wrong_ , per se, but I had overtaxed myself- let the thrill of battle come before common sense. "In my current state, I am unable to exert myself for long," I admitted, nodding towards Robin, "So I thought to make myself useful elsewhere."

"I see, I see," Robin nodded to herself, pacing back towards the table, "The first order of business is to push the Plegian Army back- in theory, we have a numbers advantage on the ground, and our archer companies can keep most of the Wyverns off our backs. But!" She spun around with a sigh, "We can't use those numbers unless we can push further away from the wall. If we'd just had _more time_ -"

Ah, this conversation. Before I had left to prepare for battle myself, I had borne witness to the Ylissean high command bickering over whose fault the scouting situation was. Yes, they should have sent out scouts earlier. Yes, it was something they all should have checked on. But no, it wasn't anyone's fault individually, even as they all moved to take the blame. It was quite amusing, in an unfortunate way. Rather than witness a repeat of that, I cleared my throat and said, "At least we had, what was it, two hours of warning? By my reckoning, you managed quite a rally in that time."

Robin's jaw snapped shut with a _clack_. Spinning around, she planted her hands on the table and rolled her neck. "Fair enough," she grunted, pushing wooden blocks around the map, "Ugh, how is it _hot_ in Ferox? A-anyways, it looks like my message got through. We're gaining ground, but much too slowly for my liking. Basilio's out there on the front lines, Flavia's holding the left flank, and Chrom's... no, he would have followed fourth company, he's in the center now. Lady Tiki, can I rely on you to command troops on the right flank? W-would that be too much, um, exertion for you?"

Drat. Tactics again. Shaking my head, I looked in the direction Gaius had gone earlier- though I'd had to dull my senses to deal with the battle outside, I could still hear soft footsteps coming down the stairs towards us. "I was never much for tactics, I'm afraid. What about Frederick, then? He seems quite sharp."

"Frederick is," Robin paused, licking her lips and wiping a bead of sweat off her forehead. "Phila, where is Frederick? I _think_ I put him with the healers, but if Lady Tiki is asking about him, he's probably not with the Triage group."

Furrowing her brow and pursing her lips, Phila thought for a moment. "Ah. You put Stahl with the Triage group, if I recall. Frederick is, I assume, with his liege."

"Right, of course, of course," Robin muttered, "Gods, it's _hot_ in here. I-I hope you don't mind if I take off my coat?"

After a short pause, I waved a hand. "I see no reason to mind, as it were. In my time I have seen many more people in much less," I let a smile creep onto my face as I spoke, taking some amusement from Robin's reddening face, "Primarily in my capacity as a healer. I doubt any sensibilities will be harmed."

That appeared to be enough for her. Robin peeled off her jacket, revealing the thin woman underneath- why, I had no doubt lifted weapons heavier than she was! As she adjusted her top, which was light canvas brown with vertical black stripes, I began to understand why she had been concerned. It was an unfounded fear, as all it exposed were her shoulders and collarbone, but some stuffier members of nobility might take issue with that. As it was, I wondered if the Robin ever _ate_.

Gaius chose that moment to return, now with a mage in tow. The mage had his hands on his knees, panting now that Gaius had come to a stop. "D-don't go so fast," he spluttered, sounding as young as he was short, "Can't k-keep up."

Robin, who had finished adjusting her hair, turned towards them and nodded. "Ricken. Gaius. What's our status?"

Leaning to one side and resting a hand on a hip, Gaius held up a finger while he crunched down on some form of hard candy. "They're doing fine," he said around a mouthful of sugar, "Almost safe enough to put out our own flyers, apparently. But the kid here-"

"Not a kid!" the mage interrupted, shaking his head emphatically. His overly large hat fell to the ground, earning a chuckle from Gaius.

"-Ricken here says he has something important to say," Gaius continued, putting another piece of candy in his mouth, "Somethin' about wyverns and counting."

"Lost," Ricken panted, straightening and putting a hand to his heart, "Lost count of them. Miriel said it was fine, well, I _think_ that's what she said, you know how she is," finally catching his breath, Ricken looked around the room with a steadily rising blush. "O-oh! Lady Tiki. H-hello. A-anyways, I think a Wyvern might have gotten past the archers and mages while I wasn't looking. Just a minute ago. Gaius came just as I was looking to come down here," he explained, "And, um. I-I've never seen you without your coat, Miss Robin. Or s-seen you up close, Lady Tiki. Sorry if I'm awkward."

Phila coughed politely, making Robin and Ricken jump. "If I might interject," Phila said, looking between Robin and Ricken, "Even if Ricken is wrong, I think it would be wise for us to send someone immediately. Robin?"

Robin nodded, collecting herself. "Of course. Ricken, I need you to make sure we always have eyes on the Wyverns, just in case it happens again. Gaius, grab the first Pegasus Knight you find and tell them to fly up around the back of the wall, and come in through the doors on the top. Get two or three more to do the same on the other side, but _be careful_! That way, we'll find any Wyvern Riders looking to pick off messengers, and maybe catch intruders by surprise. And- oh, looks like one of my runners is back," Robin stopped abruptly, nodding towards a soldier who'd just come up the stairs.

I could not help but admire the change that came over Robin when she got into the rhythm of her work. It was a far cry from the small, shy woman who pulled in on herself, stammering when she looked at me for too long. Now was not the time to tell her that, though; she needed focus, not distractions. It was, however, time to ask what _I_ could do. "Robin?" I said slowly, waiting for her to turn towards me, "Is there any task I might help with?"

Robin frowned, tapping her fingers against the table. "Hm," she hummed, reaching for a quill, "I have some ideas. One moment."

She put the quill to paper, scratched a few lines, and stopped. "Hmmm. Bit faint."

Phila raised an eyebrow, looking between the quill and Robin's face with something resembling a smile.

Dipping the quill into an inkwell, Robin returned to the paper and scribbled a bit more. Staring quite intently at the page for a long moment, Robin nodded to herself. "I appear to be out of ink," she declared, putting the quill down and wiggling her ink-stained fingers, "Presumably because most of it is on my hands."

Snorting, I leaned over to point at her hair. "And in your hair, I'm afraid. Unless you know the trick, that might take some time to get out."

Tilting her head, Robin let a few strands of hair trail over her face. Lips curling into an irritated frown, she let out a pained sigh. "Of course. I _always_ do this, and then when I go to see Maribelle or run into Cordelia they get all upset about my hair," she complained, "And, with all due respect Commander Phila, I _know_ it's my own fault. Lady Tiki- you're telling me there's a trick to it?"

It took me back several centuries- twenty, roughly, perhaps twenty-five. To Mar-Mar, always worried about his troops and his friends. Up late at night, devising plan after plan until his lovely blue hair was nearly black with ink. "An old friend of mine had the same problem. Unless ink has changed in the last few centuries," I paused as the memory strengthened, the faint scent of wine and ink palpable on my tongue, "His... future wife would always wash his hair when it happened. She'd mix alcohol and soap and run it through his hair, being careful not to let it wash against his scalp." I missed them all dearly, but it was a familiar ache- one whose pain had long dulled.

Robin winced sympathetically, barely stopping herself from rubbing her head. "That _would_ hurt, wouldn't it... a-anyways, I'll ask someone about that. Maybe Cordelia? Maribelle?" she shrugged. "Anyways, if it's not too boring a task, Lady Tiki, could you run down to the storerooms and get me more ink?"

It _was_ a boring task, but there was nothing boring about living with humans. "Humans are entertaining enough," I assured her, "Two ink vials, then? Three?"

"Ten, with how swiftly our tactician goes through them," Phila huffed, "And, if I may interrupt, it would be best if we returned to discussing the battle. With all due respect, Lady Tiki. Robin, I believe the movement of the fourth company might have been too taxing on our defensive line. Could you look outside for me?"

Pacing towards the windows, Robin shook her head. "Kellam is _Kellam_ , Phila. He may not look it, but he's a fine commander for smaller groups, I'm sure..."

I chuckled as I walked away, the sound of Robin and Phila bickering swelling with every step. Humans, as always, were _fascinating_.

()()()()()()

The war room was much _busier_ when I returned, to put it lightly. More cramped, to be sure.

Basilio had returned from the front lines, unsurprisingly sporting several bandages over his arms and across his stomach. More surprising was how little they seemed to affect him- he moved about the room with the vitality of a younger man, loud and boisterous as he held his own with Robin, Phila, and Virion. From the look of things, Virion had managed to strain a muscle in his shoulder- one arm remained mostly immobile as he sipped tea with the other.

"This is _hardly_ an injury," Basilio rumbled as I entered the room, gesturing to the bandage wrapped across his midsection, "I can move just fine! But if your healers tell me to take it easy, you can damn well bet I'm taking it easy. That woman wields a parasol nearly as well as Olivia does a sword! Oh, you wouldn't have met her yet, would you?" he mused, stroking his chin.

Setting down the ink vials on the table, I nodded in turn to everyone present. "It was quite easy to find the ink," I said, "Your quartermaster- Cordelia, correct?- did an excellent job organizing. Give my compliments to her next time you see her."

"Ah, the fine Lady Tiki," Virion bowed slightly, setting his teacup down with a _clink_. "Reduced to such banal tasks as restocking ink. We all must get our hands dirty in such trying times, don't you think?"

"I fear we may have different definitions of 'dirty hands'," I replied dryly, "But I think you knew that, from- hmm, what was it, five years ago?"

Virion went through a fascinating spectrum of colors, finally settling on a light green. "I had forgotten," he chuckled weakly, "Oh, but he _did_ have it coming, did he not?"

Basilio looked between us, both eyebrows rising as amusement twinkled in his one visible eye. "I'm sure there's a good story there, eh?" He chuckled, patting me on the back with enough force to mark a human's skin, "After this all settles down, Lady Tiki, we should go get a drink. A real one, not that sparkly grape juice those Ylisseans call a drink. Genuine Feroxi Firewhiskey, straight from my personal cellar!"

"Ahem," Phila interrupted, "There is a war going on outside, ladies and gentlemen. I would prefer if we focused on it."

"Damn military women," Basilio muttered under his breath, "Fair enough. But you're invited too, Commander Phila. I think I like your sass."

"Pardon?" she blinked, putting a hand to her chest, "My sass?"

"Disrespecting the Khan's right to speak is punishable by a fistfight in the arena," Robin rattled off, "Hasn't been used in the last fourteen years, and was only invoked because Khans Basilio and Flavia wanted an excuse to fight."

"Ha!" Basilio barked, thumping a fist against the table, "Right you are, girl. If I want to invite someone to get drunk with me, I can damn well do it!"

Phila levelled a glare at Basilio, drumming her fingers on the table. "I see. May we continue now?"

Leaning over, Basilio whispered in my ear, "See what I mean?"

"I do," I nodded, responding in kind, "And I haven't had a good whiskey in two centuries, so I might take you up on that."

And with that, we turned our attention back to the conversation at hand.

It was quite dull, and involved a lot of troop movements.

()()()()()()

I spent centuries practicing patience. As such, waiting through half an hour of bland discussion about war tactics was easy enough. Regardless, I was still thrilled when Gaius crashed into the room from upstairs, blood-spattered and with another hard candy in his mouth. The stench of battle clung thickly to him, along with a faint, familiar scent.

"Hey, Bubbles," he grunted, rolling his right arm and twisting his back, "Turns out the kid was right. Two assassins and ten soldiers made it up, can you believe it? Red and I had it, though. She's a damn good fighter. Hey, where's the healers, by the way? And also a Vulnerary. Duds is looking pretty banged up."

"Red..." Robin frowned, "Cordelia, right? Oh, good. You should have just run to inform us immediately-"

Gaius waved Robin's words aside, striding towards us as he inspected the room. "Yeah, but then some more soldiers came from... somewhere... and chased us inside. S'fine. But really, where's the Vulneraries?"

Virion gasped, trailing off in a hiss as he put his injured arm back down. "Gads!" Virion looked from Gaius to Robin. "Gaius, my friend, did you say _Duds_? I distinctly recall you calling our mutual friend Andrew by that name. But he should have been-"

"-with the other civilians, yes," Phila interrupted, brow furrowed, "And he did not strike me as a fool, no matter how strange he acted. Lady Tiki, while I appreciate your concern, please stop gouging holes in the table."

Everyone turned to look at me, and I in turn inspected my sharpened fingernails. I rather preferred my friends _alive_ for as long as possible, and 'pretty banged up' did not bode well considering Andrew's health beforehand. "Pardon," I hummed serenely, "That happens when I am distracted. Gaius, I believe I saw Vulneraries in storage, though you might be better off acquiring one from the triage healers a floor below us."

Robin tapped the table with her quill, lips set in a thin line. "...that should work," she said softly, "How... banged up, is he? How did he end up there to begin with?"

Basilio sidled away from the table, looking down the stairs to shout at a passing soldier. "You there! Find some more soldiers, and get 'em up here. Might be a breach up top."

If I concentrated, I could still _feel_ Andrew, even through the stonework. There was no flickering to his presence- no risk of death, that I could sense. I was used to friends dying, but I would rather they didn't.

"Thank you, Basilio," Robin nodded, "Tiki, you're handy with healing, right? We have staves somewhere in the room, so could you, um, get on that?"

Closing my eyes for a moment, I drummed my fingers on the table (no doubt digging tiny holes in the wood), searching inside myself. Did I have enough magic to spare, as I was right now? "Yes, I can. Where are they?"

Phila tilted her head, pushing herself out of her chair and walking stiffly towards one side of the room. "I'm not an invalid. They are over here, Lady Tiki- no, nevermind. They're on the-"

"You were right the first time," a woman's voice called down the stairs, "If that _is_ you, Commander Phila. There's a crate with staves in it under the crate of parchment, because Robin always needs both of those things. I only take away the ink because otherwise she'd never leave the war room."

Robin flushed, running a hand through her hair as she turned towards the stairs. As we watched, Cordelia and a rather scuffed-looking Andrew made their way down. Andrew had to hunch over to allow Cordelia to support him, though I suspected he was not actually capable of standing up straight, not at the moment. "Andrew!" I called out, accepting the Heal staff from Phila as she offered it to me, "Why is it that every time you leave my sight, you get stabbed or knocked out?"

Andrew looked up at me. For a heartbeat, his pain was laid bare; before most could even comprehend it, he had hidden it behind a lopsided smile. "What can I say, Tiki?" he chuckled, glancing around the room, "I have a knack for it. At least this time I actually did some damage first. And after getting stabbed," he coughed into his fist, wincing as he stepped away from Cordelia's support. "All the damage was after I got stabbed, I think. Don't remember. I did a lot of stabbing. Anyways, I wanted to at least get back before I fainted from blood loss this time, because I've done that _way_ too much."

Well, he certainly hadn't lost any of his spirit. "We'd rather you sit down first, Andrew. It's much easier to heal you that way."

"Fair enough," he shrugged, chuckling again, "Hey, I'm not a Shepherd, but I at least get first-class service!"

"Save your energy," I admonished, tapping him on the forehead with the healing staff, "Though I doubt talking is much effort for you."

"Might be more effort to shut up, honestly," he offered, wincing as he finally sat down. "Oh, and Cordelia? Thanks. I owe you my life. Literally."

Cordelia shook her head. "Just doing my duty as a Pegasus Knight, Andrew."

" _So_ ," Robin interrupted loudly, "Normally this is Phila's thing, but- let's get back to the subject. Andrew, what _happened_ up there?"

He sighed, shifting in his seat to look at Robin. "Well, that's easy. So I fell asleep upstairs..."

And then he was off, retelling a (very clearly) abbreviated version of events. He barely noticed as I healed the larger cuts, even gesturing to where they _were_ at relevant points in his story. Despite that, I could not quite focus on his words. Something more important had latched itself to my concerns:

_Why was Andrew left up there?_

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is currently being ported over from Fanfiction.net for your reading pleasure. Chapters will be uploaded randomly until I am out of chapters to upload. You can read the full fic on fanfiction.net if you'd like- same username, same fic name.
> 
> Comments and kudos are appreciated, but I think that's a given.


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